The Hunger Games  Battle Royale
by BTolson23
Summary: The Capitol, under the leadership of a new mayor, has started their 101st Games with a bang. They've assigned the Tributes to an Island, where anything goes. With new firearms and melee weapons randomly assigned, which of the 24 shall win?
1. Change

**(****First off, thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter of Destinies Entwined. So, I said I was going to start when I finished one of my other stories... I lied. I just been itching to start this one. It will START IN A WEEK! Remember, this is a crossover between Hunger Games and Battle Royale. I reveal some things here, but a lot of the things in the next chapter. Read on! It's gonna be a fu~un ride.) **

(The interviewer sits by a table, with another chair opposite him. Otherwise, the room is dark.)

Julius: Hello to all of you watching, listening, and experiencing! Julius here, an interviewer for the Games for a number of years. Now, we've all heard rumours concerning The Hunger Games, and man, are these rumours intense! But, never fear, Julius is here to shed a light on the situation. Or, rather, my guest will shed some very important light on the situation. Please welcome the most respected, the bravest, and the most important man in the Capitol, Mayor Raven!

(Footsteps sound, before a young, fit man in a black suit appears, and takes a seat down, facing Julius.)

Raven: Thank you Julius, thank you. I have to say I have thoroughly enjoyed your work over the years. Especially last year, I'm not sure I could interview such a mad man as Xavier King.

Julius: Trust me sir, it wasn't fun. But, I, along with the Capitol, really want to know. What's with this 'change' we've been hearing about?

Raven: Yes. Change. That is my most important regime. Change. And, the most important change of Panem is the Hunger Games. It is a punishment, and a form of entertainment, yes, and also very popular. Tributes who have won have gone on to great lives. Katniss Everdeen to state one. But, The Hunger Games is growing stale...

Julius: Are you saying that you are stopping the Hunger Games, after the success of last year's 100th anniversary?

Raven: Far from it Julius. I am changing the games, changing it for the better. You see, our initial concept: 24 Tributes, a boy and girl from each District, fighting it out to the death, will remain. However, that is really the only thing that won't be changed. One small, yet important change is raising the ages of the Tributes. Now, the age range is 15 years of age to 21. We did this to provide more viewers. After all, people get more turned off when they see a 12 year old get mulled by mutts. Also, the younger age are often uneducated in the Games, and thus provide a boring experience, unless they go crazy, like last year.

Julius: That's understandable... but other than that... what other sort of changes should we expect?

Raven: Well, first of all, the cornucopia is no more. Previously, we used it to store weapons, food, and medicine. But, more often than not, the Careers got to it and defended it. Quite simply, that is boring to the Capitol. As a direct result, there is no more blood bath.

Julius: No more... but, sir, the Blood Bath is one of the most popular points of the Hunger Games. A lot of the betting goes into the Blood Bath.

Raven: That is true. But what we have... what is new; it will change the Hunger Games for the better. Better... yes, everything needs to be better, to be advanced, and the Hunger Games, to advance, it needs to be bigger, better, and a true battle. That is why we are making a historic approach.

Julius: Historic?

Raven: Yes. Tributes will be on an island off the coast, an old island once used by the military, even before the Capitol was formed. Now, not only the island is historic, but also the weapons the Tributes will have. Each will receive a random bag, which will contain water, food, a compass, and a map. After all, we don't want them to starve to death. Also in this random pack, is a randomly assigned weapon. It can range from the popular sword or mace, to something on the other end, such as a fork, or a brick. Most importantly, we have guns. We have included the use of guns in these games, only a few, but enough to make it much more enjoyable. Shotguns, pistols, and machine guns are a few firearms.

As I said, this is only one change. There are other changes, other important changes. Though these will be revealed at the same time the new Tributes find out a week from now. Gone is the survival aspect of the Games, no... Now, the Hunger Games is truly a fight... no... A Battle Royale!


	2. Rules of the Royale

**(Thanks to AlexTheMortal, angie2282, and Percival Jones for the reviews. I'm not doing the usual District stars, as that would just drag on considering I'm focusing on 24 people. So, it pretty much goes straight into the Games, which is a good thing. Read on! **

The figure groaned slightly, his head feeling as if something was crashing symbols against it. Nathan Paradise AKA Boy #1 yawned, stretching out his arms to the sky. That was when he froze. Nathan looked around, and saw other people in a similar state like him, if not more sleepy. They were in some kind of class room, but not like any Nathan had seen. The desks were single and wooden, while at the front was a green-ish board, with some kind of white writing with the letters BR.

It was unusual for Nathan to be sleepy; after all, he was usually a very enthusiastic boy, gaining the attention from many an adult from his home in District 1...

District 1... Nathan thought back to that District, and realised that the last thing he remembered was that he went to his house at midnight, or around that, crashed on the sofa and prepared to read some special magazines he had got from school... then a crash... then some kind of prick against his neck.

Nathan felt to his neck to feel the pin prick, but was surprised when he found something thin and metallic. Probing around it, it was like a metal collar. Frowning, Nathan went to pull on it, when a hand grasped his wrist.

He looked to the owner of the hand, and saw a young male adult with brushed back hair, glasses propped on his nose, and some kind of zip up jacket.

"Who the hell are you?" Nathan asked, rudely, flicking his wrist to get the man off him.

"Call me Ray." Raymond Violette AKA Boy #3 said. "Trust me; you pull that, something bad will happen."

"And how would you know that?" Nathan said with a slight sneer, ignoring the mutterings and talking's going around now at a higher volume.

"Because..." Raymond started, pushing his glasses up. "I'm from District 3, electronics. Trust me right here right now, that collar ain't just for decoration."

Nathan went to reply, when a loud crashing noise was heard, earning a few screams of surprise from the girls and even a few of the boys. Nathan, however, crossed his arms and stared at the new arrival.

The man was in his mid-30's, by the look of things, and he wore a faded brown suit. He was slightly balding, and had wide rimmed glasses.

"Hey, mind telling us what the fuck is going on?" Victor Durand AKA Boy #6 exclaimed, glaring at the man. He was tall and large, almost intimidating Nathan, and Nathan had his fair share of mean streaks. Hell, he used to beat on kids to get their money when he was back in school.

The man dabbed his head again. "Good morning, class, I am Mr Tsukayami."

No one replied in any way shape or form, and Mr. Tsukayami whipped something from his trousers, and a loud BOOM filled air, causing a voice exclamations and choice swears.

Nathan looked at the gun, a pistol, in Mr. Tsukayami's hand. It was a decent quality one, even if it was old. Nathan knew a lot about old fashioned guns; he loved wars, and loved researching wars.

"I said 'Good morning, class' I expect a good morning back!" Mr. Tsukayami exclaimed, his hand shaking. "And I will not hesitate to shoot you."

After that, a shaky chorus of 'Good Morning Sir's followed, causing Mr. Tsukayami to breath in relief.

"Hey, some of us ain't in school anymore." Nathan turned to look at Ralph Deason AKA Boy #5.

Another BOOM filled the air as a bullet whizzed through the aisle and straight past Ralph's ear, who looked positively shell shocked.

"No speaking out of line." My Tsukayami said. "I will kill you. If the less intelligent ones haven't noticed, welcome, to the new and improved Hunger Games."

**Line Break**

Flicking her long, shiny brunette hair, Candice Laboy AKA Girl #4 felt a bit annoyed, let alone any other feelings. She felt annoyed quite simply because there was no prior warning. As far as she knew when she watched the Games with her family, there was this public lottery, not this... this _kidnapping_. And, according to Mr. Tsukayami, it was most definitely the Hunger Games.

Eyeing the pistol once more, Candice let out a breath. That wasn't any fake, and pretty much confirmed this was no joke. This was real. She had been selected for the Hunger Games.

"Now, you all may be wondering: This isn't how the Games are meant to go." Mr Tsukayami continued on, wiping his bald spot. "You'd be right. The Games have changed, Tributes, and for the better. But, you don't want to listen to an old man like me go on and on, I'll let a TV do the talking." The teacher motioned to the door, which opened, and two men in full army uniform, complete with helmets and guns, walked in, transporting a large grey TV.

The soldiers stopped, and then stood back to attention by Mr. Tsukayami, who raised a remote, and clicked the button.

Candice raised her eyebrows at the woman on the TV screen with the bright pink hair and way too fake smile.

"Hello Tributes! Welcome, to the Hunger Games!"

Clapping sounded, and Candice looked to Mr. Tsukayami, who was the only one clapping. Everyone else was silent, or otherwise making small noises of fear.

The woman on the screen raised a finger and wagged it. "Now now, it's not like the Games you all know and love. No no, there have been changes. Now, I bet your wondering what changes there are. Let me show you!"

A 3D image of an island went on screen, behind the woman, who pointed behind. "This island will be your fighting grounds. It is big enough to let you separate, but small enough that you won't get lost. We wouldn't want you getting lost; you'd miss out on the fun! This island is abandoned, so there isn't any worry about collateral damage. We wouldn't want that now, would we? On the island, there are also 'danger zones'. Danger Zones are exactly that, you step in a Danger Zone, you can say bye bye.

Next up, you will notice collars around your neck."

Candace stroked the collar unconsciously. She did want to know what its purpose was.

"The collars react to a special frequency, emitted by a radio tower. But you can't stop it, as it's in a Danger Zone. If you enter a Danger Zone, try to escape, try to remove the collar, or try to cause rebellion, the frequency will activate a receiver on the collar."

A small red light suddenly lit up at intervals on the woman's collar, as well as continuous beeps and smiling broadly, pointed at it. "Exactly like this. As the beeps and lights get faster and faster..." The lights were flickering at a much more fast pace, with the beeping almost continuous. "BANG!"

As the woman shut her mouth, the collar exploded in black smoke and a flash of fire. Gore, shards of skull, and brain matter splattered against the wall. The now crudely headless body of the woman stumbled, before falling to the side, the TV turning off.

Some of the girls gasped, while Candace raised an eyebrow. So that's what they were for. Nasty.

"Now, now, now, don't be scared." Mr. Tsukayami continued. "If you're sensible, you won't try any of those four things. And trust me; we have surveillance all across the island, complete with audio. That is almost all. But, Tributes, there is a few more things. Every now and again, the Capitol will activate traps on the island. You all know what kind of traps there could be. Finally, you will be taking a bag with you."

Mr. Tsukayami pointed at a pile of bags Candice only just realised was there. They were backpacks, with two straps and a dull green. "In these packs, you will find a compass, a map of the island, a list of Tributes, pen and a notepad, food, and water. After all, we don't want you dying of not having enough resources." Mr. Tsukayami let out a laugh, before turning it into a cough and spitting on the ground. "But, most importantly, the bags contain a randomly assigned weapon. It could be something as simple as an iron pole but it could also be something as deadly as a sword or even one of these pistols. Heck, there are even some... surprises... Now, you have ten minutes to talk to your peers, form alliances and whatnot, after that, you will be going in intervals out into the island in order of District. That is all."

Candace looked around as talking filled the room, with people wanting to form potential alliances. "Now... who could I go with...?" Candice thought to herself.

**Line Break**

Anita Rangle, AKA Girl #8, watched as people started heading towards each other in search of an ally. It seemed all the large people went towards each other, while everyone else sort of milled about, not willing to actually ask for an alliance. After all, it was kill or be killed, and you make an alliance, you just show weakness.

At least, that's the rule Anita went by. Anita adjusted the band holding her ponytail together, and sat still, her arms crossed. No, she didn't want an ally, a friend, someone to trust. When there is one winner, the only thing you gain is having to kill friends.

For Anita, the ten minutes went quickly. She took the time to look around at her opposition. There were a number of big guys all talking together, including one girl built like a tree, and was cussing every so often. Anita also happened to notice a boy rocking back and forth in the far corner.

No-one else seemed the least bit threatening. Scared kids, over confident muscle, hot girls, but no battlers, no one who truly wants to play the games by the rules.

No-one but Anita, that was. Anita was tough, she knew it, but not much of anyone else knew it. In her home District 8, based on textiles, everyone knew her as someone who was very 'fashion conscious'. Hell, that was true. Anita loved her clothes, and the clothes she was wearing at that moment were her own she made. By herself, no help from anybody.

A gunshot caused hushed silence as everyone looked back to Mr. Tsukayami. "Tributes, the ten minutes has passed. It seems there are only two fixed alliances." The teacher nodded towards the group of about 6 which included the big woman, who Anita guessed were the official 'careers' and also towards a couple who looked beautiful in every sense of the word. "That may be a mistake. It may not. Well, Tributes, time is almost up. As I said before, you'll be going at fixed intervals. On your way out, grab a bag, and get to running unless you want to die early on. One more thing, the moment the last person out clears the clearing, it will become a danger zone. So, without further ado, Boy #1 Nathan Paradise, let's go!"

Nathan walked out from the group of six, looking extremely arrogant and cocky. "Hell yeah, sir, gonna enjoy this."

"Sure." Mr. Tsukayami threw a bag Nathan's way, who caught it and jogged out of the open door.

Exactly twenty seconds passed. "Okay, Girl #1 Lena Brownell..."

**Line Break**

"Boy #8, Marvin Melancon"

Adam Christy, AKA Boy #10, took off his cap and rubbed his head. He couldn't believe what was happening. One minute he was home in his District, the next, he gets jumped on in his sleep.

The Games... Adam just couldn't register the fact that he was in the Games, he was in the Hunger Games. It was actually a reality... at one in 24 chance of winning... Adam stroked his faint moustache in thought. And everything has changed. It's not like a normal Game, no, far from it. Guns? Frickin' guns?

"Girl #8 Anita Rangle."

Adam looked up as Anita was thrown the bag and she ran out of the room. With her gone, there were eight more people, four different Districts.

"Boy #9 Jeremy Magruder."

A twitching boy stood up, and tripped over himself when the bag was thrown his way. He hastily stood up, grabbed the bag, and made a run for it, bouncing off the doorway and out.

Adam decided to wait, not think, and just wait until his name was called.

"Girl #9 Amanda Rowell."

Amanda had flowing blonde hair, and she seemed to skip over to the door, grabbing the bag as she went. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

"Boy #10 Carlos Strouse"

Carlos was a big, dark, man, with a large girth. He was one of the ones who didn't join the careers despite his size.

"Girl #10 Cindy Curule."

One of the youngest compatible contestants at 15, Cindy stumbled out of her chair, looking shaken and scared, faint tear traces down her cheeks.

"Boy #10 Adam Christy."

Adam stood up out of his chair, and jogged towards the door, catching the bag on his way. He stumbled a bit with it, as it seemed weighted. Hopefully that would prove to be a good thing. Hefting it under his arm, Adam exited the room into a long corridor. The corridor had Capitol Military on either side, but Adam ignored it and started to sprint, dropping slightly as the step went down.

He landed in grass and stopped a moment, staring around him. He was in a clearing, but was surrounded by trees on all sides, apart from the school of course.

BAM

The ground in front Adam burst into chunks of dirt and the boy took no other incentive to sprint forward towards the trees. People were already playing, and by the sounds it, someone had a big gun. Adam bit his lip and entered the tree's, which were spaced nicely enough to run freely, but complicated enough for there to be less room to aim.

No alliances, no mistakes, just keep running. Adam hefted the bag more comfortably and continued onwards, wondering what the game would hold for him, and indeed, if he'd survive it.


	3. Hour 1  24 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to angie2282 and Percival Jones for your review! As I said, I'mma going straight into things. I sure am enjoying writing this, for sure. And don't worry about not remember who people are, as people will become more significant as they survive through things. **

**Read on!) **

The forest type area was nice and comfortable. A faint breeze ran between the trees, ruffling the hair of the girl. Sheryl Saldana AKA Girl #11 wiped a bead of sweat off of her hair, and dropped her bag with a thump on the ground. Sheryl smiled to herself as the grass touched her toes. It was a nice feeling, how the grass was smooth and pure. She bent down and sat carefully down by a large tree, sweeping some of her hair out of her eyes.

"This isn't so bad..." Sheryl said to herself. "A beautiful place... a lovely smell... even the song of the birds." Indeed, birdsong could be heard, twittering through the trees. If Sheryl looked carefully, she could see birds in the trees, and smaller animals in bushes, scared to approach her. "Is this really the games?" Sheryl asked herself, frowning slightly. "It seems too beautiful a place for something so bad. Reminds me of the trees back at home."

Sheryl's mind filled with images of District 11's trees, full of lush fruit. Not that any of them got it. The Capitol always took the food, never letting them have any. Starvation was a problem for a lot of District 11's, after all; they were the second poorest district after District 12. Sheryl glanced down at her slight figure, once more frowning. She raised her top slightly, and looked at her ribs, which could be seen prominently. Seeing her thin figure, Sheryl decided to eat, and as such opened her bag for the first time.

Along with two bottles full of water, there was a loaf of bread, a map of the island, a compass, and finally the notepad and pencil as Mr Tsukayami had said back in the classroom. Also in the bag, just long enough to fit in was a sleek wooden bow, complete with a pack of ten arrows. Sheryl ignored her randomly assigned weapon and ripped a chunk of the bread and bit into it.

Sheryl coughed, and spat some of the bread out. It tasted like cardboard, hell, now she looked at it, it looked like cardboard. Despite this Sheryl bit into it again and forced herself to chew and swallow.

When she finished the bit of bread, she placed the loaf back in the bag and looked at an opposite tree, admiring the pure nature of it. But then something caught her eye on the tree. Sheryl ran forward in a hurry and slid to a stop, putting her hand around a jagged slice in the tree.

"An axe cut?" Sheryl whispered. "It's old... have you been living with this wound for years? You poor thing..."

To anyone else, they would have immediately deemed her crazy for talking to plants, but to Sheryl, plants should be treated as human beings. She loved trees, flowers, and even some of the deadly beautiful ones, like wild roses. In fact, pretty much every plant held a special place in Sheryl's heart. She hated any manmade damage to plants, which was why she reacted so strongly to the axe cut. .

"I'll stay with you, don't worry." Sheryl murmured, before an unnatural click was heard. Sheryl turned around and relaxed when she saw a young girl in a dress with a blue bow. "Thank god, I thought for a moment it was one of those care-"

Rat-a-tat-a-tat-a-tat

Sheryl was pushed back by the sheer force of the bullets which were shot from a machine gun which was in the girl's hands. Blood splashed against the trees and ground when the bullets finally stopped. Sheryl stared dumbly down at her mutilated chest, where the skin and muscle were ripped to pieces by the high impact of the bullets. But then Sheryl's head snapped backwards, blood and brains bursting from the back of her head. Sheryl hit the tree and slid downwards, her head lolling sideways.

Cindy Curule AKA Girl #10 regarded Sheryl's body with a cold expression, before flicking her hair out of her eyes. Machine gun still in hand, Cindy walked over to Sheryl's bag and put her own next to it. Taking the food and water, Cindy picked her slightly heavier bag up, leaving everything else where it was. Without a backwards glance at Sheryl's body, Cindy walked away.

**XXX**

Gunshots. Horrid noise, rough noise, not nice at all. The boy cowered under a leafy bush, his hands over his head and sniffling slightly. Marvin Melancon AKA Boy #8 felt his eyes grow hot, but he cursed himself. Now wasn't the time to cry, it was a time to survive.

But those gunshots... rapid fire. Marvin bit his lip. Had someone died? Was the first kill committed? Or did two people have an exchange, or someone made a mistake, or... or... Marvin groaned lowly, rubbing his hand through blonde hair, his fingers going over the purple streaks. '_The environment fooled me. It isn't peaceful, not at all. Nothing like the District, nothing like home.'_

Marvin loved District 8, loved making clothes, which could be seen by his home made shirt, which was a flamboyant pink shirt with purple stripes. Some thought it was a girly thing to do. Marvin didn't care. Despite being shunned at his school, despite being criticised by his parents, Marvin did what he wanted to do, not what anyone wanted him to do. If he had followed his parent's will, he'd be strict, and not at all flamboyant.

Marvin sighed. '_Why does this have to happen to me? What did I do?_' He couldn't help but feel angry. But he quickly clenched his teeth and grabbed tightly onto his hair. '_Don't succumb to the games, Marvin, it's not even been an hour and you are already feeling it...'_

Marvin heard footsteps, and he drew in breath, becoming silent, not risking any movement of any kind. He saw thin legs, which would have otherwise looked beautiful, had it not been for the flecks of blood against them. Marvin almost cried out, but clamped his hand on his mouth.

The figure stopped. Then walked towards the bush. Then stopped again.

Marvin could feel the blood pulsing in his head. The bushes would be opened, and then it was all over. Marvin prayed in his mind, for the figure to go, to let him be.

And then there was a sharp snap.

The figure whirled around and let out a burst of machine-gun fire into the trees.

Silence.

A couple of seconds passed, before the figure walked away.

Marvin waited. 1 minute. 5 minutes. 10. 15. Finally, he shakily went to a crouch, and checked his bag. It was silly really, he should have checked before, but no, he had been too scared to. Now, unzipping the bag, he almost cried in frustration. The food and water and everything else that Mr. Tsukayami had mentioned. And a glass bottle.

"No... no..." Marvin muttered to himself. "This can't be my weapon... they got a machine gun... I got a... a bottle?" Marvin zipped the bag shut and hefted his bag on his shoulder. Feeling angry and slightly insulted, he started running in the opposite direction than the machine-gun holder.


	4. Hour 2  23 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Nameless271, AlexTheMortal, and Percival Jones for the reviews! I'd thought I'd say that Ryder DOES have a role in this story, although you'll find out what that is on Hour 6. Anywho, read on! **

The careers were getting bored, which was a bad thing. They were itching for a fight, and had started bickering with each other.

"God, is everyone just hiding?" Boy #5, Ralph Deason complained, hitting his random weapon, a pistol, against his thigh. To be honest, he had no idea how to use it, but he figured just press the trigger and aim in the direction of the person. The ammo clip was full, although if they'd get any more would be another question.

"They did look like a punch of pansies." Boy #1, Nathan Paradise supplied, banging a tree with an iron pole, which he was given. "I mean, some looked as dumb as Dolores and Donald."

The two in question let off a thick laugh. Girl #7 Dolores Berman has a large stature, and blonde pigtails. Her jaw was thick, and she was carrying one half of the group's packs. Carrying the other half was Boy #2 Donald Lubin. About as thick, both in body and mind, as Dolores, he was a brute. But, he couldn't comprehend much.

"They are insulting you, numb skulls." Girl #1 Lena Brownell spat, clenching her fists in irritation. She just wanted to kill someone, and quickly. If not, the so called 'career' group would be at her mercy... "Remind me why we have you to again?"

Donald and Dolores let off equal grunts, causing Nathan and Ralph to burst out laughing, loudly.

"Shut up!" Self-proclaimed leader, Victor Durand hissed. "You want to attract anyone here? Because at the moment, we only got our fists, that pistol, and my flail which could cause any real damage. That's not enough in case some other group formed in the last hour."

"Don't get so agitated Victor." The last member of the group, Girl #4, Candice Laboy said, crossing her arms.

Victor sighed and nodded towards the beautiful girl to his side. Victor was attracted to Candice, although the same could not be said for Candice. She was practically dragged along in the first hour, and she couldn't run, as Victor had threatened to kill her. It was only his unhealthy obsession with her which kept her alive. How long that would last was anyone's guess.

"Yes!" Nathan exclaimed, and ran forward. The others looked ahead and realised that the trees were thinning, and there was a plain of grass in front of them, blowing in the wind. They kept in the shadow of the trees, surveying the scene. They could see buildings about a mile away, but otherwise the grass was the only thing between them and there, apart from a small square building half-way there.

"Hey, let's go to there, and then run to the buildings." Ralph suggested, pointing the building out.

Victor chewed his lip in thought, before hefting the spiked ball on a chain over his shoulder. He had tested the sharpness of the flair, and it would definitely work well against human skin. It was just as good, if not better, than the chainsaws he had used back in his District. Victor glanced at his fellow District Partner, Dolores. Unlike everyone else in the group, Victor saw the threat Dolores posed. If she was angered, she wouldn't stop. Victor had seen her cut down a tree with an axe in less than ten seconds with her strength. Victor was already thinking about allying with her and getting rid of the others. Except Candice, or course. Victor knew he was in love, and love was a great thing.

"All right, let's go." Victor nodded. "Let' go."

At that, the seven members of the group started off at a run, sprinting through the grass hoping no one saw them.

**XXX**

Boy #10 saw them. But he wouldn't do anything. Damian wouldn't allow it. Jeremy Magruder stared from the branch he was sitting on, high in the treetops. Holding the three pronged sharp weapon in his hands, a trident, Jeremy knew no-one would find him. Damian had assured him of that.

For a moment, the fields turned blood red, but Jeremy punched himself in the forehead. "Nu-uh." Jeremy said, his voice shaking slightly. "Bad. Bad. No images. Let's just watch, shall we Damian? Yes... watch and learn... much like school."

Jeremy smiled to himself as the 'careers' ran towards the stone building. Jeremy had watched others do the same. Ants in desperation. But Jeremy was calm. Damian assured him he would win, so he needn't panic. Why panic if you know you are going to win?

Footsteps interrupted Jeremy's thoughts, and he looked down to see a large dark-skinned young man. He was large, and was looking worried. Charlie or something, Jeremy thought. Casey? No... Carlos, that was it. Carlos from District 10. Carlos the Big friendly giant. Jeremy let out a snigger, watching Carlos as he moved through the bushes, staying on the rim of the forest.

_'Damian... I'm doing just as you said... do you want me to remain here?_'

"Yes..." Jeremy said, before leaning back and closing his eyes. Better to get some natural sleep. That would give him the advantage.

**XXX**

"Careful now." Boy #4 Craig Voss said, his blonde hair flowing in the wind.

"I'm fine, Craig." Girl #2, Kayla Nielson said with a smile.

The two were currently helping each other down a steep cliff. When Kayla had left the bunker, she had waited by a large tree for Craig, and the two had ran east to the side of the island, which was close to the Bunker. They had looked down and saw a glittering beach, which the two were currently climbing down to.

After a couple of minutes, they made it down the steep cliff face, and looked at the beach. With the sun rising, and the water glittering, it was perfect. Kayla collapsed to the ground, flicking the penknife she had gotten absent mindly.

Craig followed suit, placing his shotgun carefully in front of him and sat down, his back leaning against the cliff wall.

Kayla grabbed his hand and held it. "Our own little slice of paradise, huh."

Craig nodded, staring at the slim and tanned beauty that was Kayla. Her hair was brown and wavy, while she wore a white tank-top and shorts. She slipped her trainers off, then pulled her socks off, and wriggled her toes in the sand.

"You look nice." Craig said.

"Nice?" Kayla repeated, poking Craig jokingly. "Is that all you come up with?"

"Beautiful? Stunning? Angel-Like?" Craig supplied.

"That works." Kayla said, snuggling up to Craig's shoulder and staring at the sea. "I'm glad you're here Craig."

"We are technically strangers." Craig brought up. "After all, we met around an hour and a half ago at least."

"So." Kayla pouted. "Ever heard of love at first sight?"

"I heard of it when I saw you, that's for sure." Craig said.

"I could stay here forever." Kayla sighed in ecstasy. "Me, you, the beach and the sun. Perfect."

Craig nodded. "Same here. We'll wait it out, y'know, and then decide what to do then... talking of which, what _should_ we –"

"Sshh." Kayla placed her finger on Craig's lips. "I don't want to even think about that."

"But-" Craig protested.

Kayla stroked Craig's cheek. "How about I make you think something else?"

Before Craig could reply, Kayla tackled him into the said, giggling, and placing a big kiss on the lips. Craig pulled her closer, and the two Tributes started to roll around in a deep embrace.


	5. Hour 3 23 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Angie2282, and Percival Jones for your reviews! I do like them XD There is a touchy subject in this chapter, but I don't delve into it too far. Nothing graphic, just... what it implies. Read on! **

The girl rocked on her haunches in the small grey building. It was two layers, and she was on top staring out the window on the far side, the clouds flowing. Free to move and to live.

Girl #9, Amanda Rowell loved the clouds. And loved watching them. She used to watch them in District 9 all the time as she cut down corn with her sickle.

Amanda absently swung her random weapon in front of her. It was a scythe, long and sharp. She hummed a small tune to herself. All she had to do was wait the games out, and then she would get off scot free.

The door opening drew Amanda's mind sharply down to earth. She heard voices. Then footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

Amanda shook, and clutched the scythe close to her, shaking. "Not again... not again... go away..."

Unwanted memories streamed through Amanda's mind, and tears started filling her eyes.

**XXX**

_Amanda shook, holding her knees to her chest. She was deathly pale and thin, her ribs sticking out. Her cheeks were drawn, showing her gaunt face. Even her usual big blue eyes were faded and dull. It seemed as if her very life had been taken out of her. _

_ At ten, Amanda had been in her dark prison for five years. Five years of being contained, five years of no light, hardly any food, and hanging on by a thread. _

_ Then the footsteps. They were thick and heavy. The door opened, and her uncle stood there, grinning crookedly. _

_ Amanda obediently stood, as if trained, and lifted her tattered dress. _

_ Her uncle grinned even more and stepped forward, ruffling her hair. "You are getting more obedient, my girl." _

_**XXX**_

Amanda bit her lip so hard blood dripped down her lip as the footsteps continued, slow.

"No, Uncle... go away..." Amanda muttered to herself.

**XXX**

_ Amanda lay worn on what couldn't even have passed for a duvet, let alone bed. She wanted to cry. She needn't to cry. But her tears had run out long ago. _

_ Her Uncle stood up, red faced and sweating slightly. "Always my little girl, aren't you Amanda. Perhaps I'll let you come into my room." _

_**XXX**_

Amanda's knuckles went white, and she stood next to the door. Waiting. The door creaked open, and she saw a hand.

**XXX**

_Her uncle's hand pressed firmly against her neck, pinning her against the wall. His face was a mixture of pain and anger, but mostly anger. A fresh cut on his cheek dripped to the floor. _

_ Now fifteen, Amanda was still a wreck, wearing the same ripped dress, the same haggard appearance. _

_ "You want to try that again?" Her uncle roared, spittle flying against her face. "You little bitch! I'll give you extra treatment! You got no weapon to defend yourself now!" _

_ As her uncle groped her chest, Amanda saw the knife she had dropped moments before. _

_**XXX**_

Boy #1, Nathan Paradise walked into the room, frowning. He looked one way, and then the other.

The last thing he saw was the scythe heading straight towards his eye.

Amanda watched in satisfaction as the blade went through Nathan's eye, brain, and then the tip entered through the back of his skull.

Nathan gargled something incomprehensible, before Amanda pulled the scythe free. Nathan fell back down the stairwell, amidst curses and a yell of horror.

Amanda backed against the wall, grinning wickedly. "I got a weapon now... Uncle I got a weapon... I'm not defenceless!"

The harsh crack of a bullet caught the air, and Amanda's shoulder burst into a crimson mess. As she slid down the wall, she stared at Boy #6, Victor Durand as he held the pistol out.

Dropping the scythe, Amanda continued smiling as blood poured down her shoulder.

**XXX**

_Amanda was crying hard, tears streaming down her face. _

_ "Amanda dear, it's all right, I've found you, you're safe." _

_ Amanda nodded weakly, looking at her mother who she hadn't seen for ten long years. Over her shoulder, Amanda spotted her uncle, the knife through his neck. _

_**XXX**_

Behind Victor, Amanda's feverish mind saw her mother reaching out for an embrace.

_"__**Come watch the skies with me again Amanda.**_"

Amanda reached out with her healthy arm, as her mother drifted towards her. Then the back of her head burst in blood and brains. With a fresh bullet hole in her forehead, Amanda fell sideways, leaving a bloody smear on the wall.

**XXX**

Raymond Violette AKA Boy #3 grinned to himself. He was in a room full of shelves of equipment. Old green jump-suits, model kits, helmets, all remnants of a past army. He had set out his assigned weapon, if it could be called that, on his lap.

It was a small handheld radio and headphones. To anyone else, it would have been a bad weapon. For Raymond, his mind worked 100 miles per hour, whirring round and round.

Raymond was smart. He knew that. His friends knew that. His family knew that. At the age of 5 he took apart his first TV. At 8, he creating a remote-controlled plane about the size of his arm. At 12, Raymond had won a junior competition at school by creating a working car engine. At 17, just a year ago, he had successfully made his first working computer using scraps from the junkyard. Although he accidently used so much power it turned half of District 3's electricity off.

So, the radio and headphones had so many possibilities.

Raymond tapped his head in thought, before he searched through the storage facility he was in.

Having been the fifth person to exit the bunker, Raymond had sprinted all the way through the forest and into what he guessed was a military complex. Thankfully he was fit and lean. Raymond had chosen the storage facility as the least obvious place for a tribute to go. The barracks were way to obvious, being it had ammo. Raymond had checked. The mess hall was also a bad place to go, as it had a lot of packed food.

Raymond gave a cry of success, and found what he was looking for. With a small screwdriver in hand, Raymond set to work.

It took twenty minutes for him to carefully take apart the radio without harming any of the electronics. He also took the ear buds of the headphones off without ripping the wire. After another twenty minutes, Raymond had a makeshift taser wire perfectly. Grinning to himself, Raymond clapped his hands together in success.

**XXX**

Gary Tsung cursed. The stupid shirt had ripped and dumped him to the floor. Staring up at the makeshift noose on the branch, Gary wished he had a rope or something.

Was it really that hard to end your own life?"

He did have scissors given to him, but if he were honest, Gary preferred a quick death. Hence hanging. A quick break of the neck and Boom, you're a hanging corpse.

Gary kicked the tree in anger. "Stupid goddamn weak shirt..."

Gary had every reason to kill himself. The only remaining member of his family, unattractive, bullied, you name it. Anything unlucky and bad had happened to Gary. He had broken his leg when he was three, and had fractured his skull at 6. His mother died at childbirth and his dad a year later. Growing up in an orphanage, Gary was seen as the Ugly Duckling, the spaz, the crippled cripple.

But every time he tried to end his life, it always failed. He landed on a shopper after jumping of the orphanage. The fire had burnt him severely but didn't kill him. The stupid gun he had managed to steal after weeks of planning from a peacekeeper misfired.

"So stupid I can't even kill myself!" Gary exclaimed to himself. "Stupid stupid stupid! I hope something just shots me..."


	6. Hour 4  21 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Angie2282 for the review! Keep reading and reviewing! Read on! **

Sue Fann, AKA girl #12 was happy. At 21 she was big and built hardy from all the work at the coal mines. Her hands were scarred with burns and ridged from lots of pick-axe works. It seemed that the dust had permanently invaded the crinkles on her face, if the dark patches of soot were anything to go by. Sue's hair was cut short and ragged, but she didn't care about her appearance.

At this moment, she cared about the blow torch she was given. And she felt right at home. A blow torch could be used for lots of different things, whether it be building something of using it for offensive purposes. A good harsh 6000 degrees and increasing heat would do wonders to the human skin. Sue ducked behind a corner in the small town she was in, to the North West of the island. She was right in the heart of the town, where a lot of the homes were.

Sue was intelligent enough to know that a blow torch alone wouldn't make her win, but heck, it was better than nothing. Sue crept down the street, and ducked into a garden, wary. Thankfully, she was short enough so the top of her head didn't appear over her head. The buildings were square in general; all sporting gardens at the back with glass sliding doors. Sue went to the glass door of the garden she was in, and opened it.

There was a sudden shout and a figure popped up from under the table, with what looked like a brick in hand. Sue acted instinctively and brought the blow torch up and let the flames lose. It caught the man straight in the side of the face, and he let out a horrible yell of pain as his skin melted and deformed. Sue kicked him to the floor before running out of the house. She wasn't prepared to kill. At least not yet.

**XXX**

Boy #7 AKA Phillip Rinaldi was in pain. He couldn't chase after the girl with the blow torch even if he wanted to. The left side of his face was hurting badly. He picked himself up off the floor, and started thrashing around in complete pain. He could only see out of one eye, although that didn't matter at the moment.

After flailing over a table he got to a sink and turned the tap on, letting the water rush out. He started splashing it on his face, and screamed even more. He wrench the tap straight off of its sealing, water immediately bursting from the pipes straight into his face. Phillip sputtered and turned around, hitting his knee on the table. He collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, dripping water and his pain only slightly lessened.

Phillip stood up shaking, and took more deep breaths to calm himself, and managed to make his way to a hall mirror. When Phillip saw his reflection, he gasped and backed away.

His flesh was like plastic, the flesh melted and fused together. His eye was not visible under the flesh which had fallen over it. Harsh red blots covered the top of his head, where his hair had singed off. Phillip starting hyperventilating, the smell of burning flesh and hair overwhelming. He crawled up the stairs, breathing hard and blinking.

'_Why me! What did I do! That bitch... goddamn bitch...'_ Phillip thought as he got to the landing, his legs to shaking to support himself. '_I was acting on defence! This is what I get! Nothing like home. I was respected! Now... my goddamn face! I'll kill her!" _Phillip managed to get to a bedroom, and crawled into the corner. He had dragged his bag with him, and now rummaged in it, bringing out the water and splashing it over his face. The smoother torrent was better than the sink. Calming himself down once more, Phillip leant against the wall, and figured he'd wait until people came to him.

**XXX**

The girl flinched at the scream of pain, and heard the footsteps, coming straight for her. She turned and managed to climb over the wall, hoping the person so her. Girl #9, Anita Rangle, clutched the wrench close to her chest, leaning against the wall, listening. The heavy footsteps came nearer; until they were behind the wall Anita was against. But the footsteps didn't stop until they disappeared. Anita breathed a sigh of relief.

She stood up and dusted herself down, before going through one of the glass doors, and straight to the front door. She opened it on another street, before dashing to the other side. She continued until she got to her desired location.

The church rose high in the air, complete with a bell. It was made of white stone, and had a nice garden with bushes and roses. She crept inside the slightly ajar wooden door. Anita hoped that was the wind, and not anything else. With her wrench in hand, Anita walked behind then numerous pews facing the alter. But she went round the back into a smaller room, with a ladder going up. Anita climbed this ladder, putting the wrench in her mouth, one rung at a time. It made a small clanging sound, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Anita got up, and stood up, seeing the town before her. But then her breath was constricted, and a piece of wire slipped over her throat, pulled hard. Anita kicked out as she was strangled, clawing at the wire to free it. She elbowed behind her, but only encountered stubborn flesh. She felt herself starting to fade.

_'No Anita, come on! Keep there! Do something, otherwise you'll die!'_

Anita flinched at the thought. The exact same thing her mother had said after the accident. Anita grit her teeth, and suddenly threw her head back, connecting with a jaw. She felt the wire loosen, and she lurched forward, pulling the wire out of the attacker's hand. She turned around and spotted a sturdily built women, recognising her as Brittany Hartman, Girl #5. When she had left the bunker, she had grinned.

But Brittany's face was one of anger, and she reached out with her hands to grab Anita. Anita ducked and slammed the wrench straight into Brittany's knee. Brittany yelled in pain, and Anita slipped behind her. She raised the wrench to slam it onto Brittany's head, but she hesitated. That moment of pause was all Brittany needed, and she slammed her elbow straight in Anita's stomach. Anita coughed, bending over. And Brittany grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her forward hard.

Anita tried to stop, but couldn't. She went stomach first into the railing blocking people from falling over. But momentum caused Anita to tip over, and she fell. Before she could even let out a sound, Anita slammed back first onto the tiled roof of the church. The impact shook her, and she slid down the tilted roof, before falling straight into a grassy bush, her head hitting the side of the wall on the way down.


	7. Hour 5  21 Tributes Remaining

**(I like reviews thank you XD Their appears to be a problem with fanfiction not showing updates until much later... I think this chapter went down well, I think. So read on and review on!) **

Girl #6 AKA Bertha Iglesias sat huddled against the wall, her arms over her knees, mumbling something incoherent. Her pigtails were becoming unravelled, and grime covered her feet, hands and face. Whenever she glanced at her hands, she let of another gasp and shook even harder, covering her face, constantly saying: "Dirty. Unclean. Dirty. Unclean." As if it was some kind of chant. Tears streaked down her face, and Bertha bit her lip, once more glancing at her hands and flinching back.

Back in District 6, Bertha was known as a 'clean freak' in her school, as well as having OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. While in school she had it controlled, the Games had opened it like it was a sore wound, and Bertha hated it. She was tapping on her knee, and had to tap on the next. She had to bite her lip two times in opposite directions. Overall, she was affected mentally by the games.

"A-Are you okay?"

Bertha's head shot up, and stared at the figure in front of her. The girl was thin, but sturdy. Her hair was tied back into a blonde bun, and concern was etched over her face.

"DIRTY! UNCLEAN!" Bertha suddenly exclaimed, shaking much more vigorously, her feet tapping against the floor.

Girl #3 AKA Sharon Nussbaum hesitated, before reaching out. "Are you sure you're okay?" She touched Bertha's shoulder, and she flung herself to the side, crying, her tears mixing with mucus from her nose.

"Away! Go away! Away! Away!" Bertha shrieked, causing Sharon to look around nervously.

Was it really worth the effort to see if she were okay if she attracted everyone on the island? To Sharon, she was conflicted. Back at school in District 3, she was always the nice girl, who made friends with those who weren't popular or liked.

In fact, her very best friend, Stacey was back at home, most likely watching her. And thinking about Stacey caused Sharon to think of her parents. But she instantly shook the thought off. They'd be no thinking about them in the games, not until you win.

Sharon kneeled down next to Bertha, ready to try once more. "Come on, it's okay. Do you want to talk?"

Bertha suddenly lashed out, her nails gouging through Sharon's cheek. Sharon gasped in surprise and fell on her haunches, already blood beginning to well from the wound and drip down to the ground.

"See what I get for my troubles." She muttered, before running up the small alley, leaving Bertha to tremble even more.

Sharon jogged lightly, adjusting her back, and quickly made the decision to go outside of the town. What if there were more people who had fell to the Games Psychological effects? What if they were more twisted? Sharon shook slightly, remembering the Games last year. Xavier King was mad, and brutal. But he wasn't the only one. The person, who came third, James Total, had been driven crazy. Her dad always said that if you let the games get to you; you wouldn't come out in one piece, if at all. He had said that if James did win, he wouldn't have been able to live outside the games.

Sharon shivered as she came to the Outskirts of the town. She didn't want to become like James, or like Bertha. She didn't want to be driven crazy. No, all Sharon wanted was to go back home, and if that meant killing...

Well, she didn't have a choice, did she?

**XXX**

"_Come on Donald, come on! You can do it!" _

_ "I don't want to mama, I don't want to..." _

_ "Nonsense, it's only a river. You need to learn to swim sometime." _

_ "But I'm gonna drown, mama, I don't want to die." _

_ "You won't die, come on." _

_ "Mama, no! No! NOO!" _

Donald Lubin AKA Boy #2 sat up suddenly, before groaning in pain. It all came back to him in a rush. All he was doing was walking in the forest, when he was charged by some great oaf. Next thing he knew he was tumbling down a hill and knocked his head on some tree trunk.

Donald sighed, looking at his bag once again. He was disappointed, that was for sure. What was his random weapon? A gun? A sword? Even a fork? No, all he got was a damn plunger.

Donald cursed out loud to the game makers, before standing up, his head pulsing.

"Damn, stupid..." he muttered, looking around. Donald appeared to be in some pit, the hills rising all around him.

The sound of trickling caused Donald to freeze. His breaths grew shallow, and he looked to a pipe in the hillside. Water.

Oh god... Donald gulped, painful memories, harsh memories. Then he noticed something even worse.

The water was rising in the pit. He realised that the green hills weren't hills at all, but moss. Where was he? Some kind of... oh no... Donald knew what it must be. A trap. A trap waiting for one of the Tributes to fall into it.

As the water touched his foot, Donald jumped half a mile and tried climbing the wall, to no avail. The moss was slimy and wet. More water.

Donald jerked his hands back, breathing heavily.

"Come on, Donald m'man. It's water, just water... Just like the water you almost drowned in... No! Don't think! Donald, climb, climb!" It was a technique Donald had learned from his psychiatrist.

When Donald was 5, his mother had been trying to teach him to swim. Donald couldn't, and despite his protests, his mother threw him into the water. '_Actions speak louder than words'_ she said. Too bad Donald nearly died that day; in fact he had, for a few moments, before he was rescued by his dad. After that horrifying near-death experience, Donald had freaked out at any water. Be it the shower, from the tap, or the rain.

The rain was the worst. The way it pinged of the roof, the torrents of it, the completely different and unpredictable way it could fall. To Donald, it was torture. Complete and utter painful torture. His dad had got the psychiatrist a week after the event.

Donald was taught to talk to himself out loud, give commands out loud, and who knew, it actually worked. Donald could even walk out in the rain after a month of therapy.

He had thought he had quelled his fear, but as the water from the pipe got heavier, it reminded him of the small waterfall near the river in question, and the water was up to his knees now. His waist when he was a small child.

Donald backed up against the mossy wall, where strands tickled his neck, and clenched his fists.

Perhaps it was a trick? A mental one, one to see if he would panic. Perhaps the water would stop at his neck, and he could rise with it.

As if reading his thoughts, there was a clatter. Donald looked up, and his brain seemed to convulse.

"No! No no NO!" Donald yelled as a metal square slid from the wall forming a lid. Sealing him in. "Don't do this, no! No!" Donald felt himself crying, but he didn't care. All he cared about now was the fact the water was up to his waist. Pulling at his clothes, hundreds of small hands wanting to take him down the abyss.

Donald screamed and thrashed, hit the wall until his fists were bloody, and tore great chunks of moss from the wall in his frenzy. Nothing stopped the water, and soon, Donald's head touched the metal lid.

"God, no, don't do this, please..." Donald sobbed, tears falling down his face in salty strands. Thoughts covered his mind. His father, the only person who understood him. Apart from the psychiatrist, of course.

Then the water was over him suddenly. He didn't even have time to hold his breath.

Donald sputtered and tried to breathe, but all that achieved was water flushing into his lungs. He scrabbled at the lid with his hands, but nothing worked.

This was it.

Donald felt his eyesight fading, hearing the words of his mother once more in his last thought.

"_You won't die, come on." _


	8. Hour 6  20 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones and Angie2282 to for the reviews! So, in hour 6, I reveal who the special guest presenter is. Fun! Read on!) **

Adam Christy panted, sitting back on the tree, staring at the hole, which he had sealed up. Originally, people would have thought that his assigned weapon was a bad thing. But Adam had managed to use the thick steel plate to his advantage. After leaning down, he managed to stick one end into the moss, and into the mud beneath. It then acted as a lid.

He had watched and listened to the scrabbles, the bangs, and then the silence.

The silence was the worst. The silence acted as confirmation that Adam had killed a man.

"I had to." Adam said to himself, nodding and reassuring himself. "There was a chance, and I took it." He gulped and took a gulp from his bottle of water.

Why did it have to be so hard? He'd killed birds and shrews when he was sorting out people's gardens. They were lives. Are human's so different? Yes... Adam sighed. They were.

But he couldn't allow it to live on in his conscience. He stood up, brushing his trousers down, and hung the bag on his shoulder. On the map is showed a small beach to the North-East. The cliff rose high above it, so he'd have to climb down, but Adam would be glad of the secluded space. No-one would think to find him there.

He turned to walk off, when he was suddenly tackled to the ground by something dark. No, not tackled, but fell on. Adam groaned, and the figure stood up, looking scared and shocked.

Carlos Strouse panted, sweat running down his dark skin. "Oh gods... please... I don't want to die..."

Adam's mind worked fast. This guy could be an ally. And as much as Adam hated to admit it, Carlos could be used, manipulated. He seemed like that sort of guy. "I'm not, I wouldn't... I don't want to die either." Adam managed a weak smile. "And I certainly don't want to kill anyone myself. I've been trying to avoid everyone in this forest." Adam extended his hand. "Adam Christy."

Carlos bit his lip. He had been careful, very careful over the last six hours. He had just about avoided the careers, but he had felt he was being watched. Then, as he ran in fear, he had collided into someone, and before he could see what, the figure had fallen down the pit near here. Carlos started to run again, then once more hit someone. Adam.

Carlos' first impression of Adam was a sympathetic one. Adam was pale, sweat on his face. He definitely looked like a lost person, who didn't want to be in the games. Just like him. So this combined with Adam's tone of voice, reassured Carlos. And Carlos knew he would fare well with an ally.

"My name is Carlos Strouse." Carlos said, grasping Adam's hand. His voice was heavy and slightly slow. "I'm so glad you are here, I mean, as someone who doesn't want to play."

"Who would want to play?" Adam asked, raising his eyebrow. "This is crazy. This whole new scheme they got."

"Those careers are intent on playing." Carlos said lowly. "They want to fight. They almost caught me, but thankfully I just missed them."

"You're lucky man." Adam took a breath, and decided to make the offer. "Carlos... in these games numbers are better, you know what I mean. Better to survive. I figure we work together. You and I could work well. You're strong, and I'm intelligent. These work well, and we could possibly survive. Let the others do the killing and we'd outlast them. What do you say, allies?"

Before Carlos could reply, there was a sudden hiss of static, before a voice echoed all over separate speakers around the island. To Raymond in the military base, Brittany in the church tower, and Kayla and Craig on the beach. Everyone heard what was being said.

**XXX**

"Hello, Tributes. I want to get something straight out of the way. I do not want to do this. I had to, and that was not my choice. But, let's introduce myself. My name is Ryder, and you may know me from the last Hunger Games, where I was the winner." Ryder's voice was slightly sad, but also had a sense of anger. "What am I doing here talking to you? Well, I have been chosen as a 'guest presenter' for the 101st Hunger Games. Basically, this means that every six hours, I will give a report on who has been killed and by whom. Well, let's start then, shall we."

The unfortunate first victim was Sheryl Saldana, who comes from District 11. She was gunned down by Cindy Curule in the forest, who wielded a machine gun."

The second and third victims happened near the same time. The so called 'career' group went into a small house, and was met with a resilient Amanda Rowell, from District 9. She killed the second victim, Nathan Paradise from District 1, with her scythe. But then Amanda was killed by Victor Durand, from District 6, by a pistol."

The fourth and latest victim was Donald Lubin, from District 2. He was knocked unconscious by Carlos Strouse – Apparently by accident – and was trapped in the trap he fell in by Adam Christy."

I have to go into the details so that you can anticipate who you decide to ally with, and who has what weapons. As a previous winner, I know what it takes. At the moment, I hope that all you have what it takes. One piece of advice: Do not succumb to the games mentality. Keep your humanity."

I'll see you in another six hours, where hopefully not many have died."

**XXX**

As the voice died down, Jeremy Magruder grinned to himself. Four dead already. A career and three useless people. No bad losses. This Cindy sounded like a likeable fellow though.

Jeremy quickly shook his head and stared down from the tree he was sitting on, at the heads of Carlos and Adam. They were arguing over the recent announcement.

"You _trapped _him in!"

"You knocked him down!"

"I didn't _mean _to."

"And I didn't mean to trap him in. My piece of metal just dropped and lodged itself in the hole. There was nothing I could do! Look, we shouldn't argue. There's a secluded beach north-east on the island. We should stay there until this whole thing is over."

Jeremy sighed in disappointment. The argument didn't develop into blows, or even death. That would have been exciting.

"But nothings secluded, is it Damian?" Jeremy muttered lowly do himself, so only he could here.

_'Not at all. You'll follow them and kill them. They are the rats and you are the owl. They are the rabbits and you are the fox. You are the predator, and you will hunt them down. No one escapes you.'_

"Oh, I know... I know..." Jeremy licked his lips, and saw Carlos and Adam moving. Quietly and expertly, he hopped to the next tree athletically, and continued this way, following the new alliance.


	9. Hour 7  20 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks for the reviews! I have crappy internet at the moment, so I have five minutes until it snaps off again, so read on! **

The Career group were sat at a table in one of the houses in the town, either leaning on walls or sitting with their legs up. Victor Durand was flinging the flair into the table with a dull thud, wood cracking under his light blows.

Ralph Deason and Lena Brownell were arguing viciously, leaning forward in anger.

"I'm telling you that was stupid!" Ralph said, slapping his hand on the table setting his point again. "You don't reveal who kills who! It's damn stupid; it takes the fun out of the Games."

"I'm all for violence, but would you ally with that Christy bloke in the hope that he'd be a usable ally, only for him to stab you in the back when you turned?" Lena slammed her hand on the table, much harder than Ralph had, causing the thickset man to jump. "That Ryder guy was right to tell us. It means we can shoot on sight. Curule, Christy, Strouse. All of them. We see 'em, we shoot the crap outta them."

Lena sat down on the chair, crossing her arms. The message was quite clear. Argument over.

But Ralph didn't think so; he flung his arms up in the air in exasperation. "But you don't just..."

"Can it Ralph." Candice said, shaking her head. "Arguments over, unless you want Lena to crack your skull."

"I'd do it as well." Lena said, her eyes showing no lies.

"Fine." Ralph huffed, leaning back. "But-" Ralph froze as a bullet cracked in the air and the wall exploded just by his ear.

"Shut it." Victor said, placing the pistol back on the table. "Argument is over Deason. You try to continue it, I won't miss."

Ralph slumped his shoulders. "Where's ]Dolores anyhow? That stupid freak Donald was killed."

"We told them to find food. At least he won't be bothering us for a moment." Candice supplied. "Talking of which, Victor, we really should get rid of her now Donald's gone. She's not worth it."

"I decide what's worth it and what's not." Victor said.

"Who even made you the leader anyway?" Ralph ventured to ask.

"Who made me the leader?" Victor stood up and walked towards Ralph, spinning the pistol in his hands. He looked threatening, even mad. "I did. You see, I don't need any of you. Not you Deason, not Brownell, not even Laboy. But the thing is, we work together, we get rid of the competition. Then, in a fair fight, we fight to the death. It's as good as an offer as you are going to get in these Games. I arranged this whole thing, so I am the leader." Victor suddenly lifted the pistol and placed it against Ralph's forehead, who looked positively scared. "Do you want to challenge that, Deason?"

Ralph gulped. "Uh, no... I'm fine, y'know. You are a good leader, after all."

"Of course." Victor put the pistol in his waistband and glared at Ralph. "If you want to combat me on that decision. We'll fight. Just don't complete when I place a bullet between your eyes."

**XXX**

On the upper floor of the house, all Philip Rinaldi could do was remain quiet. His face still hurt, pulsing along with the beat of his heart. Philip was in the corner of the room, in the shadows, and he hoped against hope that the Careers would just leave. Philip was sure that was an encounter he wouldn't survive.

He resisted the urge to just give up. Walk downstairs, head held high, and let himself be shot. Quick death. Although he couldn't be sure of that. What if the careers decided they wanted to have a bit of fun? Kick around, torture him, and break his bones and his will before killing him. Philip knew he wouldn't. After all, Lily was waiting for him at him.

'_Oh god... Lily...'_Philip bit his lip, wondering what his little sister would be thinking, watching as her big brother was mutilated and above the den of killers. Philip hated himself even more, because of the last thing he had said to her, before he had stormed into his room and fell asleep in exhaustion.

**XXX**

_Philip looked at the last tree of the day. The sun was already gone, the moonlight lighting up the area with a glow. Philip, along with hundreds his age, was in the main forest it was located in. They had been cutting down trees, to be taken to factories on Lorries, where they would be cut and converted into all sorts of things: Paper, furniture, building materials. _

_ Philip had congratulated himself for the hard work of the day. He had roughly done a tree every five minutes. These trees were thick and broad, dangerous if they had fallen. Philip had seen a number of unfortunate teens, never to see the light again . _

_ Philip wiped his brow, before attacking the tree with his axe, making a rythmetic 'thud, thud' with the weapon. After almost four minutes, Philip heard the all too familiar creek of lumber. _

_ "TIMBER!" He yelled as a precaution. To warn anyone in case of accidents. _

_ The tree fell with a harsh slam, mud flying in the air. Philip pressed a button on his receiver, knowing a truck would be on its way. He also knew that was it for the day. Philip brushed wooden splinters from his clothes, placed the axe in a sheath on his waist, and made off for his home. _

_ District 7 was large, but also sad looking. All the houses were one story, made of wooden logs strapped together with rope. For the business that District 7 had, one would have thought they'd do good. But everything went to the Capitol, and they hardly got anything for it. Most had to be spend on food, and not housing comforts. _

_ Philip walked down a collection of houses. To an outside, it would be impossible to find a certain house, but Philip knew. He walked between lines of houses, all the same. Finally he stopped and bent low to go into his own house. Inside it was warm, with the fire burning in the stone hearth. A rare thing, having a fire. You usually had to construct it after a day of work, so you were blistered and sore. At least that was what Philip's father, Ryan, had done. _

_ Ryan was now ill, so ill in fact, that Philip and Lily, his sister, knew he didn't have long. A week at most. Lily was sitting by Ryan, tending to him. While Ryan was sickly looking, his white hair plastered to his head on what was once muscled shoulders but now was sagging and loose, Lily was tall and thin, her dark hair falling to her shoulders. She wore a simple brown dress, her feet bare. Since she wouldn't work until she was a year older, 14, Lily was taught everything she needed to know about woodcraft and lumber. _

_ "Hey." She greeted softly, nodding her head. _

_ Philip nodded back and headed to the back rooms._

_ "Where are you going?" Lily asked, furrowing her brows, confused. _

_ "To my room. Where else?" Philip asked. That was also another luxury. Ryan had put a large sheet of wood between Lily and Ryan's room, making smaller rooms. _

_ "You got to take care of dad, at least for another couple of hours." Lily said. "You know he can't go to sleep until midnight." _

_ "Yeah..." Philip sighed. "I' kind of exhausted myself, y'know, and I got work tomorrow." _

_ "Oh, that's makes it fine?" Lily's voice turned into one of anger, surprising Philip. "You don't think I'm exhausted? Sure, you cutting down trees, but I'm caring for a human being. The things he needs makes my job much more exhausting that yours. I'm a thirteen year old kid, Philip, and just be expected to care for dad all the time, while I got schoolwork to catch up to." _

_ Philip also found himself angry. He simply said: "I didn't realise Dad meant that little to you." At that he went into the door and slammed it shut, locking it with an old fashioned sliding lock constructed of wood. _

_**XXX**_

Philip pressed his fingers into his eyes, willing himself not to cry. Of course dad meant a lot to Lily.

Philip wished he has said differently, and promised himself the first thing he'd do when he won was apologize and buy his dad the medical aid he really needed.


	10. Hour 8  20 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the reviews! I'd like to apoligize as I seem to making similar events to the actual Battle Royale. I don't mean too, and I'm trying my best to make it original, such as this chapter. Fight scene! Also, bad knews to you, I'm taking a week break as it's my birthday on Saturday, and I'm away. But, read on for the first chapter long fight scene!**

As midday hit the Military Island, the alliance between Carlos Strouse and Adam Christy was going strong, with their unfortunate shadow they had no idea about behind them. Carlos was sweating as the moved through the town, the only weapon between the two in his hand. A razor blade. It was thin, yet deadly sharp. Carlos had tested it on his finger, which cut a clean slice.

Both had forgiven each other about the death of Donald Lubin, and were now watching each other's backs.

"So, what house should we go in?" Carlos asked; sweat dripping down his dark skin.

Adam motioned randomly. "Anywhere really. Nobody would be stupid enough to actually go into a house, which means we can actually use this to our advantage."

"What about that one?" Carlos pointed to one, which looked just the same as the others.

"Sure." Adam led the way, wiping sweat from his forehead, and grasping the handle.

**XXX**

Philip Rinaldi heard the talking, and slowly, so as not to be heard, edged over to the window and looked down to the large dark-skinned man and the thinner boy. Odd alliance, but then the Games do odd things.

They'll get themselves killed, Philip thought, stroking the side of his face. He had waited into the next hour, and was waiting for something which could help him escape.

'_And this could be my chance.'_ Philip thought to himself, smiling, although only one half of his face moved. '_If I play my cards right... I might be able to get all of them... then, that would be 6 people down for the count... then I could wait for Dolores and get her by surprise...'_ Philip knew it was now or never. He approached the door to the staircase as Adam said "Sure."

**XXX**

Downstairs, the careers were already in place, having heard Adam and Carlos from far down the street. Instead of a straight surprise approach, Victor Durand had ordered for them to wait until the two came into the house, so they could shut the door and trap them in. Mice without a hole.

Now, Ralph Deason was hidden where the door would shut him from view, ready to slam it shut. Lena Brownell was by the stairs, Nathan's iron pole in her hands. Victor stood in the other room, and in the opposite room was Candice Laboy, who was sitting down inspecting her fingernails. She had already said she wanted no part in the fighting.

Victor put his hand up. '_Ready'_

**XXX**

Adam opened the door, and breathed a sigh of relief. The house was empty, just as he thought. Adam walked in, opening the door wide, followed by Carlos, who left the door open.

"Nice place." Adam said, nodding.

"Wait a second..." Carlos furrowed his eyebrows, before he spotted a shadow by the door. "Adam! Move!"

The door suddenly slammed shut as a figure jumped from behind the door. Ralph tackled into Adam, driving him to the floor and started punching him in the face.

At the same time a shot rang out, smashing in the door just above Carlos' head. The big man ducked down quickly behind one of the chairs, breathing quickly.

This wasn't meant to happen, and someone had a gun. A gun! What did he have? A damn razor, that's what.

Carlos glanced over to Adam, who had somehow managed to turn Ralph to the ground and was punching him. Carlos knew he should never have allied with Adam.

Suddenly Carlos' thick hair was grabbed, and he was pulled up, staring into the ugly face of Lena, who was grinning, her short hair and earrings making her look all the more fearsome. Carlos didn't even have time to cry out before she slammed her head into his own, causing Carlos to fall to the ground in pain. Lena jumped over the sofa, kicking Carlos in the stomach at the same time.

Adam was wrestling with Ralph, and it was fairly equal. While Ralph had the advantage in strength, Adam was thin and quick, allowing him to jump up when Ralph went to punch him.

"Come here." Ralph growled, and lunged to Adam. Adam ducked under, and looked around for a weapon. Ralph took a step forward, and Adam kicked the table, driving it into Ralph's leg. Ralph gasped in pain and clutched his leg, and Adam suddenly took a step forward and jabbed his fist into Ralph's head, driving it backwards.

Ralph was taken by surprise, and he was unable to do anything as he was tackled to the floor again. With hard close fist punches, Adam furiously lost control, his fists falling heavy.

Carlos' nose was already bleeding as Lena kicked at him again and again. Carlos closed into a ball, trying to control himself.

He was peaceful, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Not after what happened... Carlos bit his lip so hard it started to bleed, and just sustained Lena's punishment.

Adam's mind was blank, he wasn't thinking, just doing. Ralph was already half-dead on the floor, bleeding from the nose, and more seriously, the ear.

The shot rang out, and intense pain filled Adam's shoulder, and he fell forward, on top of Ralph, and then rolled onto his back, clutching his shoulder from the gunshot. Adam was breathing hard, and managed to sit up when he looked down the barrel of the pistol Victor was holding.

"No..." Adam managed to utter, shaking his head. "D-don't... we could... we could be allies..."

Victor just grinned. "Too late." He finger pressed down on the trigger.

Click.

Victor glanced as his gun, and cursed rapidly and violent. Adam understood immediately. There was no more ammo. He took the advantage and lurched forward, driving his good shoulder into Victor's stomach. Adam continued forward, pushing Victor forwards until his back hit the stair well. Adam backed away and glanced at his shoulder.

BANG

This time it was the sound of wood on flesh, and Adam saw the stairwell door had been pushed open hard, causing Victor to fly forward onto his face. What Adam saw would scare him for the rest of his life. The half-melted face, the drooping mouth. But Philip suddenly stepped forward, making sure to stomp on Victor's head. Before Adam could react, Philip bent down and grabbed the pistol, and whipped it upwards into Adam's chin.

Adam cried out in pain as hot metal met flesh, and he fell sideways, clutching his chin in pain. Philip turned to Victor, who was on his knees. A flash of anger went through him, and he slammed the pistol down on the back of Victor's head. Victor collapsed back on the ground, already the gash in the back of his head bleeding. Philip kicked him onto his back, and looked down at Victor's eyes. It was clear he was disoriented.

Philip placed the still burning barrel of the gun onto Victor's eye, and Victor suddenly screamed in pain, his other eye widening. But Philip kneeled on his chest, making sure the big man couldn't move. Then Philip pushed down with the burning pistol, harder and harder until...

Victor's eye suddenly collapsed, and Philip pushed the pistol down through the eye socket and into Victor's head, where his other eye seemed to stare at Philip, already lifeless.

Philip hesitantly stood up, and couldn't believe he had actually killed someone. Breathing hard, he turned around to finish Adam off when a ball of spikes smashed into his face with such force, the spike were driven through his skull, which cracked. Philip was dead on his feet, swaying, and falling down.

Lena grinned, blood splatter on her face, and leant down, pulling Victor's flair from Philip's dead face.

She turned to Adam, who had scuffled to the wall, holding his shoulder in pain. Lena walked towards him, slowly, and making her intentions very clear with the look on her face.

Adam looked at her pleadingly, looking pale. "Please... let me go... I won't harm you... I won't come after you... I got years ahead of me... please, I won't do anything..."

"You won't." Lena growled, before furiously slamming the flail down at Adam's skull. But at the last second, Adam dived to the side, the flail crashing into the floor.

Before Lena could follow up, the front door opened, and Dolores Berman stood there, blinking stupidly and staring at the carnage.

"Good." Lena said. "Victor's dead, which leaves me in charge." Lena pointed to Carlos. "Time to kill something." Lena turned back to Adam, who had scrambled to the bottom of the staircase, over both Victor's and Philip's body. She suddenly lunged forward and slammed the flail into Adam's ankle.

Adam screamed as his flesh was ripped apart. Lena pulled back, and Adam grabbed the stairway door handle, pulling himself up on one foot. Lena swung again, this time the flair slamming into his chest. Lena pulled the flail out, allowing for Adam to fall back on the stairs, tears streaming down his face. Lena stood on his chest, and then slammed the flail hard onto his face. She repeated this three times, making sure he was down. As blood pooled down the stairs, Lena turned to see how Dolores was doing.

Instead of beating Carlos, she was on the floor, staring at the roof in apparent shock. Carlos was nowhere to be seen.

"He escaped?" Lena asked, but Dolores didn't respond. "You goddamn stupid retarded...!" Lena suddenly lashed out, kicking Dolores in the skull. She dropped the flail and grabbed Dolores upper and lower jaw. Then Lena growled and let out a roar, using her immense strength to break Dolores' jaw. Dolores let out a cry of pain, but Lena slammed her fingers into her eyes, blinding her. Dolores rolled over, bleeding heavily and trying to crawl away from the maddened Lena.

But Lena had already gone mad, and she stepped on Dolores back, stopping her progress. She leaned down, grabbed Dolores' head, and wrenched sideways.

With a harsh crack, Dolores' neck was broken, and she collapsed to the floor, dead.

Lena breathed heavily, calming herself down. She grabbed Ralph's collar, pulling him up. He looked around warily, feeling woozy and on the point of unconsciousness. "Where the hell is Candice?"

But Candice was nowhere, her seat unoccupied and the window wide open.

Lena slammed her fist into the wall in annoyance. "Looks like it's you and me now Deason. We'll show them whose boss!"

Ralph half nodded, clutching his face and tapping his head, which was pulsing badly.

**XXX**

Jeremy Magruder had watched the whole thing, and he liked it. But he didn't see Dolores' death. After all, he had followed Carlos as he had run out of the house. Content in an urban environment, Jeremy was jumping over the close knit buildings, rooftop to rooftop. Flexible, long limbed, and a crooked smile, Jeremy was intent on following Carlos.

"Soon, Damian, soon." Jeremy muttered, jumping over another gap on the building at a leisurely pace, following Carlos.


	11. Hour 9  16 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones and AlexTheMortal for your reviews! After a week (and a few days) break, I'm back and ready to right! After the slaughter of last chapter, I believe it's time I build up to something new, no? Read on!) **

Anita Wrangle had managed to crawl away from the church when she woke up almost a minute later from her fall. Her ankle pulsed, but she had ignored it, crawling through the town. Eventually, she had found what looked like a bunker near the outskirts of the town. The camouflaged walls formed a semi-sphere, and made a tunnel into the ground.

Anita had followed this tunnel, managing to close a large steel door behind her, into a large underground room. Lining the shelves were ration packs of a number of different flavours. Four ten litre bottles of water stood in the corner, and there were a total of twenty bunk beds, ten on each side.

Three and a bit hours, Anita was lying in a bed, nursing her ankle. Thankfully it wasn't broke, or even fractured, just red and swollen. There were no medical supplies in the bunker, so Anita had been forced to cut off her sleeve to form a makeshift bandage over her forehead, where there was a huge gash from making contact with the church wall.

Anita had now decided she'd stay here. The door was secure, and she had enough food and water to last almost a week, if more.

Sitting back on the pillows, and sighed. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long until the games ended.

**XXX**

He felt foolish. Completely stupid. But the truth was, Marvin Melancorn's appearance meant the world to him. Pink and purple were his favourite colours, and as such his shirt and his hair were the colours. One half of his hair was a vivid pink, and the other a deep purple.

Marvin knew he looked completely visible, about as visible as a bear in a group of worms. He stared down at the murky sludge which could have once been a river, staring at his reflection. His eyes were red, but his tears were all gone. He was in the Games, so he had to actually start planning on how he was going to win it.

A few moments before, Marvin had wrapped his shirt around the bottle he was given, and smashed it. Tipping the shards from the shirt, Marvin grabbed a particularly jagged piece. The light green shard was light in his hands, but dangerous and sharp. To test it, Marvin put his finger against it, and immediately blood welled up. Closing his fist, Marvin took a few deep breath.

Purple and Pink. Colours that defined him and who he was. Colours which signified the ultimate rebellion against his parents. Colours which would get him killed.

Marvin waited a few more seconds, before grabbing his shoulder length stylized hair, which was already hanging loosely, and cut into it. Marvin gritted his teeth and continued on, his hair falling to the floor, completely different from the environment around it. After five minutes of vicious cutting, Marvin kicked mud all over the colours, making them as drab as the forest. Marvin then bent down and scooped mud onto his shirt and the remaining bottle shards, apart from one, which he put into his pocket.

Now with his short, messy hair which he had also covered with mud, his bare chest and sorrowful expression, Marvin walked away from his colours and through the forest, thinking now was a better time than any to start to put things in his favour.

**XXX**

Cindy Curule was walking, her face blank, into the military base. The fences rose up from the concrete ground, with the mess hall straight ahead, two barracks on either side, and the storage facility in the far corner. While her face was emotionless, inside Cindy was excited. All of those actions her parents had done, everything she had to do in her 15 years of living, had built up to this. Cindy realised that it wasn't just punishment her parents had made her endure, not just torture, but _training_. Training for the very moment when she was thrust into a situation such as this.

Despite living in the District made for Livestock, it was a harsh place, as at as young an age as 10, children were forced into stables with wild horses and bulls to get them trained. Once they had got the animals under control, often covered in cuts and bruises, and sometimes broken bones, the children were put into another stable, with another animal to train.

Cindy was somewhat excellent at this, although no one knew why. The first time she was thrown in, people thought the worst. She was a small girl who looked fragile. Only one day, where the average was five of seven, Cindy came out, not a single injury, leading the wild horse, now trained. More and more she was put into the stables, and she came out again and again, uninjured, but trailed by a newly trained animal.

It was a fact that Cindy had never been hurt, at least not physically. Mentally, she was put into the most strenuous situations her parents could think of, even once throwing her out into the wild for a week. Cindy came back covered in mud and blood. But the blood was of a bull, the hide of which was wrapped around her shoulders.

As the years went by, Cindy grew more and more well known in the District, as having never been injured in the stables. She was loved, and despised.

That all changed on her fourteenth birthday.

Her parents had decided that she needed a challenge. Not a horse, or a bull, or even a wild dog. No, this time they had captured a live wolf from the wild, half-starved and it's fur rank. It was five days until Cindy came out.

She had suffered horrendous injuries. Broken wrist, ankle, and numerous ribs. A fractured skull, and missing teeth. Scratches and bite marks covered every inch of her body, her dress hung like a rag.

But if you thought she'd be crying, you'd be wrong. With the newly trained wolf by her side, Cindy smiled. A smile that reached her eyes. A smile which confirmed the true exhilaration and excitement of the stables.

It was this excitement that Cindy felt now, as she took in the military base. She has developed a sense over the years, something she could not explain. The sense a predator has for prey. The sense that the prey was hiding somewhere.

Cindy picked up on this, and looked around once more, the wind a faint breeze. Her bag on her shoulder, and in the ending minutes of the hour, Cindy headed towards the Supply Facility.


	12. Hour 10  16 Tributes Remaining

**Thanks to Percival Jones for your review! Right! I got My GCSE's coming up, and i gotta spend most of my time revising and stuff like that. (Fun...) So, I'll be updating one of my stories per day. This means that due to my current amount, I'll be updating every five days. IT's better than going on a break though, hope you understand and read on!**

Both Kayla and Craig were still on the beach. Craig was leaning against the rock, staring at the sun, while Kayla was leaning against him, sitting on his lap. He was absent-mindly stroking her hair, occasionally twisting it in his fingers.

"Why does this have to happen?" Kayla asked for what must've been the twentieth time. Craig didn't respond, already knowing it was a rhetorical question. "Why do they have to kill? It's been 100 years, why must we be punished for previous generation's mistakes? The District's have learned their lesson. It's just... just horrible, Craig."

"I know." Craig said. "God, I know it." He looked at the water as it reflected the sun, and the thought which had been rising for the last hours hit him again. But this time, he spoke it. "Kayla, we can see the land from here." He said, pointing to the blob of green in the distance.

"Yeah... It makes me homesick."

"Back in District 4, I was the best swimmer. I am the best swimmer. Best endurance, best speed."

Kayla looked up at Craig in surprise. "You don't mean-"

Craig suddenly stood up, gently bringing Kayla up with him. He looked deep into her eyes. "We don't have to fight, Kayla. We don't have to kill. We can _swim!_ Swim to the land. You and me, we can make it! I've swam for longer, in more hazardous situations. I'll help you, and we'll settle, alone and together. We'll be on the run, but it would be all worth it!"

"But Craig..." Kayla whispered, although the glimmer of hope was in our eyes. "Won't they know? Like, hidden cameras and voice recorders?"

"Of course they know. We can't hide from them."

"But then, we'll be _killed!"_

"But that's the thing. They want us to go. They want us to try; they want to see if we really make it. We'll do the unexpected, we'll escape them! We will, Kayla, I promise!"

Kayla blinked slowly, before she suddenly squinted and the cave wall and pushed past Craig.

"Kayla? What is it?"

Kayla knelt down in the sand, and stared at the cave wall.

Craig grasped her shoulder. "What's wro-" Craig stopped. This time he saw it, and there was no mistaking it. A faint green light flashed for a second. Horrible thoughts came to mind. "Kayla. We need to go."

Kayla turned, insulted. "Go? Why! This is our beach, Craig, I thought you liked it! I thought you wanted to be with me!"

"I do, Kayla, I do. But you don't understand, that's a –"

The light flashed again. This time it was red.

The blast which followed was not enough to kill; specifically designed by the capitol. But the whole lower cliff face blew into shards of rock. Kayla was thrown straight onto her back, cuts already in her face. Craig hit the sand on his side, rolling so he was face down in the sand, already unconscious.

**XXX**

Sharon Nussbaum panted, clutching her bag tight. She had just had two near misses:

The first was when Carlos Strouse appeared around the corner, completely out of breath. Sharon had just time to jump out of the way of his vision before he passed, huffing and puffing. She didn't notice the shadow following Carlos on the roof.

The second time was much more frightening.

She had been hiding behind walls when she heard voices. Stock still she waited until she heard the voices clear as day behind the thin wall.

"Lena, this is... this went so wrong. We were meant to get to the end!"

"And we still will, Ralph. I got my flail, and I am not afraid to use it, understand. I've already killed, and I'm prepared to do it again. You stick with me; we'll both get to the finals where we have a fair fi- Wait."

Sharon felt herself stop breathing. She didn't even dare to blink.

There was a sudden crash, and the wall just next to her exploded, woodwork smashing over the grass. The sizable hole was made by the flail Sharon heard being talked about.

Still not moving, a hand suddenly came through the hole. It groped around, grabbing at the air, before it withdrew.

"Nothing. Must've been the wind. Jesus, I'm getting so much more paranoid since that business at the house. I keep feeling shadows. Ralph, let's go. I'm not afraid to admit I'm getting creeped out. The map shows a military base, let's head there.

Now, having dodged two potential threats, Sharon headed to the outskirts of town. She had to get somewhere quiet, somewhere she wouldn't be attacked. Somewhere where –

There was a sick thud, and Sharon collapsed to the ground. Behind her stood a figure, holding a trident backwards. He had just hit Sharon on the back of the head with the butt of the trident.

"You see Damian; she is much more worthy than the fat man."

"Yes. I see. Get her up. Let's get her to somewhere private."

"And we can do those things, right?"

"Yes. We'll have our fun. All the fun we could ever want!"

There was a laugh, before the figure leant down and grabbed Bertha, using surprising strength to lift her up and walk off.

**XXX**

Craig groaned. There was a buzzing in his ears and his head was pulsing. He pushed up to his knees, noticing the cuts around his hands and knuckles. Small bits of rock had embedded itself into his fists.

A trap. That's what it was. Craig should had realized it, should have expected it. There were always traps in peaceful places, always! The forest which was filled with insects from the 75th hunger games, and the beach side only last year.

This beach as well was peaceful. Hardly accessible, a beautiful view, beautiful sand, and loaded with non-lethal explosives. And Kayla was just –

"Oh god... Kayla..." Craig muttered. He stood up and whipped around, staring in horror at the site before him.

The explosion at the bottom of the cliff had ricocheted up to the top, dislodging rocks and causing them to fall to the beach. Huge chunks of boulders landed on the sand.

And there was Kayla.

Her waist and lower legs could not be seen. The rest was sticking out from under a huge chunk of rock. A faint trickle of blood spilt from Kayla's mouth.

"No... No no no...!" Craig felt a pit in his stomach, scrambling over to Kayla's side. Traps weren't meant to kill, only to harm. This wasn't how the Hunger Games worked at all! And Kayla was the best person he had ever met. Despite only knowing her for ten hours, he loved her, it was true. He completely loved her, and now –

"C-Craig..." Kayla was alive, and grasped Craig's wrist. "I c-can't move... Craig..."

Despite himself, Craig felt his eyes grow hot. "I know, but d-don't worry Kayla. I'll get you out of there, and we'll go..." Even to him, it sounded useless.

"You can't... I'm finished..." Kayla took a deep breath, her body shaking in pain. "Not yet... though. I still have time. Just... Craig, can you... can you stay with me? I want you... by my side."

The pain-filled voice caused Craig to actually cry, tears falling down his eyes. This wasn't meant to happen, they were meant to escape!

Craig leant down and stroked Kayla's forehead. "Of course I'll stay with you. But you are going to stay with me, you got it! Stay with me until I find a way to move this. I'm not going to let you die, Kayla, so you better stay awake!"


	13. Hour 11  16 Tributes Remaining

**(Woo, sorry for the later chapter. I was completely shattered yesterday... but it's here, and the next chapter might even be earlier! Thanks to Percival-Jones for the reviews! Let's have an important revelation for the Games, shall we?**

Cindy was annoyed. More than annoyed actually, she was furious.

She had sensed the prey, sensed her forthcoming victim. She knew exactly how. Cindy had opened the door to the Storage, and then two prongs stabbed into her shoulders, and electricity coursed into her body. When she woke up, she found the boy long gone.

And her machine gun.

This made Cindy that much more annoyed. Her machine gun allowed her to make the first kill of the games, it was her lifeline. But now it was gone!

The boy had made it personal. Cindy was determined to track the boy, and end his measly little life. She had already investigated the military base fully, through the mess hall and the barracks, but came up with nothing. Not even one single trace.

Cindy was currently searching the last of the barracks. Inside were a number of bunks of dark green fabric, with cupboards containing boots and camo.

Because she was searching, Cindy didn't hear the footsteps behind her, or the door opening. But she sensed something was amiss, and dived to the side just as a flail smashed into the cupboard door, reducing it to splinters.

On the floor, Cindy stared up at Lena Brownell and Ralph Deason.

"Looks like we got ourselves a fighter." Ralph said.

Lena let off a horrible laugh. "Let's see how long she can dance!"

**XXX**

Raymond Violette felt happy; ecstatic, even. For him, there is no better feeling than an experiment working more than expected, and that was exactly what his crudely made taser was. He had heard Cindy coming, and the moment she opened the door, he zapped her. Raymond could have even sworn there was smoke coming from her ears. He had picked up the machine gun and ammo, putting over a makeshift sling on his back. Now he was ready in case anyone else came calling. He would not kill, but he would shot in the legs to prevent them from walking.

Raymond was sure he was a winner now.

**XXX**

Cindy grunted as she was kicked in the stomach, rolling over and hitting the back wall. Lena was just playing with her, kicking her as if she were a ragdoll. There was a gouge in Cindy's cheek where she had been kicked by Ralph. Lena bent down and grabbed Cindy neck, lifting her off the ground.

Cindy could see just how ferocious Lena was. Her muscles bulged on her large frame, her teeth almost looking like points in her thickset face. Lena's short hair and bud earrings only went to prove it was less about appearance and more about strength. Cindy was starting to choke as Lena's hands closed tighter around her neck.

But then Lena dropped Cindy, and she collapsed on the ground, breathing hard. Then there was a hard impact into her face, crashing it into the wall. Cindy was dazed, her face bloody and red starting to appear in dots on her clothes.

Lena picked the flail she had deposited on the floor up. "I've had enough." She growled, before swinging the flail towards Cindy. But Cindy managed to roll out of the way, breathing hard. Lena turned, and was suddenly met with a spray to the eyes. Lena cried out in pain, clutching her eyes and dropping the flail. Cindy had picked up some kind of air freshener or deodorant as she rolled from the shelves, which she had just used to potentially save her life.

"You little-" Lena growled, but Cindy swung the flail straight into her side, ripping it open. Lena growled in pain and hit the wall, holding her side.

"I got her!" Ralph cried triumphantly, but it was premature as he was still lunging towards Cindy. Cindy turned in a flash and swung the flail, spikes and all, straight into Ralph's groin.

The pain Ralph felt was unimaginable, as if he was being burned from bottom to top. Blood seeped from his trousers and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his now mutilated 'man-hood'.

Cindy stroked the flail, and grinned. Leaving an injured Lena and a pain filled Ralph, she continued searching for Raymond. She would not kill anyone else until she had his head in her hands.

**XXX**

Sharon Nussbaum stared in horror around her. It was like something out of a freakish movie. When she had woke up, she was shocked to discover she was in small room, tied up on a chair by rope. It was bound around her wrists and feet, keeping her against a wooden chair. Sharon wondered why the hell she was here. Last thing she remembered was trying to go somewhere quiet... and then she woke up to this. Tied up and trapped.

The door in front opened, and a figure walked in holding a trident. He placed the trident next to the doorway, and walked towards Sharon, his feet light taps against the wooden floor.

"Hello Sharon." The boy said, his voice quiet, but filled with malice. Sharon was too scared to move, to scared even to utter a sound. "My name is Jeremy Magruder." Jeremy grinned, showing uneven teeth. "You and I, we will be getting... acquainted. We have ALL the time in the world."

Sharon finally managed to find her voice. "Wh-why have you got me here!"

"It's the Games." Jeremy said. "Do you know that a lot of people fall to the games? There mind breaks, and they go crazy? The Games manipulates the human mind. But the fact is, Sharon, I broke my mind years ago." Jeremy grinned. "And because we are already gone in the head, me and Damian... well, we have the Games in our hand. We'll win. We know it. But we wanted to have some fun during it. We were going to torture the fat man, but then we saw you..."

"D-Damian? Wh-where's Damian?" Sharon asked, pale and scared. Come to think of it, she didn't even remember a Damian from the School. That must've meant he went after her.

"Why, he's watching you right now. Right in front of you. Where-ever I am, Damian is."

"S-so you got... a g-good alliance with him? For the whole of the Games?" Sharon uttered, hoping that if she could keep Jeremy talking, she'd find a way out of this situation.

"The whole of the Games? I have a great alliance for the whole of my life!" Jeremy exclaimed, grinning. "From childhood to my death."

This completely confused Sharon. "Wha... but it's only one boy per district. That's impossible."

"You are right. It is one boy per District." Jeremy said, grabbing Sharon's chin and tilting his head.

"Th-then... how?"

"How? I'll tell you how! Jeremy and I..." Jeremy paused, and Sharon was put off by the use of third person. "We are one! We've partnered all our lives. Damian and Jeremy together. We are the perfect pair that inhabits one body... hah... hahaha...!" Jeremy erupted into loud laughs, throwing his head to the ceiling.

Sharon felt sick. This guy was a complete psycho.

Jeremy stopped abruptly and stared straight into Sharon's eyes. "Now, let us get started."


	14. Hour 12  16 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Right, as chapters go, I enjoyed this one, reading and writing. We'll see some of the less active Tributes. Annnywho, read on! **

"Kayla..." Craig muttered, holding the weak girls hand. She was completely pale, the colour drained from her body. It was miraculous she had survived more than an hour, really.

"C-Craig..." Kayla muttered her voice almost silent. "I... j-just... want to go..."

"I know... I-I know..." Both Craig and Kayla had accepted there was no way for her to escape. Now they waited for nature to take its course.

The quiet exchange was broken by the squeal of a microphone.

"_Good afternoon Tributes! Ryder here once more. Now, apparently I'm not actually allowed to tell you who killed who. See what I get when I try to help you? Well, oh well. I'd try to help you again, but I currently have a machine gun pointed to the back of my head, so you understand. To be honest they should've just got a normal presenter, not a guest one. Ah well, mayor's orders I suppose." _

Craig looked up at the sky in irritation. Why couldn't they have at least waited until Kayla was dead, so she could die peacefully?

"_Unfortunately, you have been busy. For the second quarter of the day, first to die was Victor Durand in a large fight down at one of the houses, following him was Philip Rinaldi, who actually killed Victor. Karma's a bitch, eh. Next to go was Adam Christy, and finally Dolores Berman was killed by the same person who killed Adam and Philip. Won't say who for fear of losing my head. _

_ "Keep up the good work fo... oh, wait one moment..." _

Craig was now ignoring Ryder and looking at Kayla, whose eyes had closed. He closed his eyes.

"... _Yep, just confirmed is Kayla Nielson to round up the deaths. Do try to slow down the killings, at this wait you'll all die when the day's over. At least that's what I'm being told to say. And now I got to go. Good luck Tributes, and one thing is for certain. Don't lose hope!" _

Craig found it hard. Really hard. He could feel his head pounding, and hear screeching from his mind. Craig wasn't just angry, he was furious. Kayla didn't die as a result of a tribute which he could hunt down. She didn't die by accident. No, she was deliberately killed by the Capitol's deliberate trap. This Craig could not stand.

Craig opened his eyes, veins throbbing on his forehead.

He could do no more for Kayla, but one thing was for certain. He was going to kill every Tribute, win the Games, and hunt down every person who had a hand in making the Games.

Craig grinned. Not a happy grin, but one of a man who's lost all notion of reality and who's mind is only filled with bloodlust.

**XXX**

Gary Tsung had given up. Given on the Games, and given up on his life. Which was why he was standing in the middle of the open field, hands spread wide open and hoping that someone would just shoot him. After all, his attempts to kill himself had been fruitless.

'_Why is it so hard!' _Gary thought to himself. '_Someone has to have a gun! Shoot me god damn it!'_

Only the rustling of grass filled his ears.

"SHOOT ME!" Gary yelled at the top of his voice, but the only reply was his own echo, which disappeared into the air.

"Are you crazy?"

Gary didn't turn around at the hiss. '_Finally. Now just get it over with.'_

"I think he is, Carlos."

"Hmm... do you reckon something happened to his ears?"

"Doubt it. Although he may have been caught up in some kind of explosion. I think he just wants someone to shoot him."

"How'd you figure?"

"His shouts of 'Shoot me' are quite a give-away."

A few seconds of silence.

"Good point.

'_For... stop talking and DO IT!'_ Gary practically screamed in his mind, already well and prepared for a bullet to the heart.

"You doing a very good act of a scarecrow, Gus."

"It's Gary!" Gary involuntarily said, wincing as he said so. There went his resolve.

"Aha! He speaks! Now will he turn around I wonder?"

Gary sighed, and reluctantly turned around, meeting three figures with dull eyes. One was a short, thickset girl who had what looked like some kind of steel pipe in her hands attached to a canister. Another was a dark-skinned boy who was very large, looking quite nervous. Finally there was someone with roughly cut short hair and without a shirt, covered in mud and grime.

"Hello there." The mud-covered teen said. "Back to the land of the Games I see."

"You really shouldn't act so cheerful." The fatter one murmured, shivering and looking around the area.

"You really shouldn't act so pessimistic." The mud teen replied.

"Don't be so optimistic." The girl countered, before turning to a bemused Gary. "The name's Sue. The one without a shirt's Marvin and the other is Carlos."

"Welcome to UTK." Marvin said, smiling, although his eyes didn't show it. "That is the Unwilling To Kill. But let's get somewhere a bit more secure, eh?"

Just like that, Gary was steered away. He didn't have a choice in the matter, but he didn't mind. He was actually hoping these three were faking and would kill him later.

**XXX**

"GOD FUCKING BITCH!" Ralph's screams were projected around the military base as he clutched his genitals, which had been mutilated from the flail. "I'll fucking kill her! Smash her to a goddamn pulp! ARGH!" Ralph punched the wall in frustration, breathing hard.

Lena, on the other hand, was deathly quiet. She was feeling the madness taking her, much like when she killed Dolores. How dare that... that whore do that to her. No-one made a fool out of Lena Brownell. And to top it off, she took her flail. No. When she got her hands on Cindy, she was going to make her suffer.

"Ralph." Lena said, immediately making her companion go quiet. "Let us go. I want to kill Cindy nice and slow. You're welcome to join me."

"Of course I will." Ralph said, frowning. "That bitch deserves everything she gets."

**XXX**

Brittany winced at the curses that echoed around the town. Someone must be injured, she guessed. Brittany sighed and leant back in the corner of the church tower, so she was facing the ladder. If anyone decided to come up, she do what she did to Anita, but hopefully with more satisfying results. After all, she hadn't died from the fall.

Occasionally Brittany got up and looked out of the tower, but she spotted no-one, so she sat back. It was boring, she had to admit, but you can't afford to take any unnecessary risks when your life is on the line.

"D-D-Dirty... so... so D-Dirty... daddy... I need to be cleaned... UNCLEAN!"

Brittany stood up at the sound of the voice, and looked down the tower to the street below. She could see a figure crossing the road, swinging her hands back and forth, continually talking about dirtiness and cleanliness. The voice disappeared, and Brittany was left back to her own devices.

'_Half a day, huh...'_ she thought. '_Seems like a damn eternity'_

**XXX**

Raymond Violette was confident he had lost Cindy. He had doubled back to one of the houses in town, and watched as Cindy walked past, confused about the blood and the new flail, but guessing that she was the result on one of the killings announced earlier.

He had knew Cindy was going to follow, so he had waited until she had gone past so there was no risk of her finding him.

Raymond was happy not only for losing Cindy, but for the particular house he was in. As it turned out, the bottom level was littered with four corpses, although he had no idea who they were. The only people he could have recognised from the start of the Games were Donald, Nathan, Lena, and Kayla. After all, they went before him.

What Raymond didn't know were that the bodies were of Dolores, Philip, Adam and Victor. He recognised them, of course, but he didn't know the names.

But Raymond wasn't interested in names, far from it. He was interested in something around their necks, more specifically the explosive collars. He had plans, that much was for sure.

But before he could even attempt it, Raymond went all over the house, hoping that the Capitol were going to see what he was doing. Raymond had drawn all the curtains, barricaded doors and windows with parts of the chairs and tables lying around. Finally, Raymond did a furrow search of the living room where the bodies were, and came up with five cameras. Something which made Raymond grin.

_'Lucky lucky me.'_ Raymond thought, staring at one of the broken cameras. They were small squares, almost as big as a match-box. What the Capitol hadn't counted on was someone who had actually helped develop these cameras, and as such Raymond was able to make signals respond back to wherever the cameras recorded to as if they had failed, and not been tampered with.

As the hour ended, Raymond was essentially in the Capitol's blind spot. No more cameras in the living room, windows drawn so they couldn't see in, and all other doors barricaded so he wouldn't actually be spotted. For the final minutes of the hour, Raymond put a body in each corner of the room, and then went over to Dolores' body first, kneeling down and taking in the collar.

Yes, if everything went to plan, then Raymond was able to do what no Tribute had ever done before.

'_They'll remember the name Raymond Violette in the future'_ Raymond thought to himself. '_As the first Tribute to escape the Hunger Games!'_


	15. Hour 13  15 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for your review! Umm... yeah, short chapter today... I'm basically building stuff up. Please refrain from complaining about the short chapter in reviews lol! RIghtio, on with the chapter. **

"How disappointing... we got a silent one." Jeremy said, sighing in a disappointment. "I knew we should have got the fat one. He would've squealed like the little piggy he is."

"Be quiet, Jeremy. It just makes it more fun trying to get her to make a noise."

"Very true."

Jeremy Magruder stared hard at Sharon Nussbaum. Her eyes were clenched, shutting the world out around her. Her hair was all over the place, and her clothes were ripped. Sharon looked a mess.

"What now... what now..."

"We could always use the trident."

"I don't want to kill her yet. I want to see how long she'll last."

"Good point." Jeremy suddenly punched forward, his fist making contact with Sharon's cheek. Sharon didn't make a noise, just took the blow. "Not even a peep? You are a human being aren't you? Scream for me!"

Jeremy backhanded Sharon across the cheek, creating a red welt. He repeated the action on the other cheek, provoking no response.

"No, she is just no fun at all." Jeremy walked behind the chair Sharon was tied to, and undid the rope tying her hands together, before going to her feet and untying the binds there.

Surprised, Sharon opened her eyes to see Jeremy over by the door, his back to her. Jeremy opened the door and stood next to it, motioning out into the hallway. "Go on then. Get going. It's no fun trying to get you to make a noise." Jeremy said, looking severely disappointed.

Sharon knew she shouldn't trust him, knew she shouldn't take anything he said as the truth. However the fact was she just wanted out. Sharon hesitantly stood up, and stumbled towards the door, not saying a word. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Sharon glanced at Jeremy, who flicked his hand out of the doorway.

"Go on, before I change my mind."

Sharon nodded, before stepping forward.

BANG

Sharon cried out as the door was slammed straight into her nose, throwing her to the floor.

"Yes! Yes she makes a noise!" Jeremy cried out with glee, before rushing forward and kicking Sharon in the stomach. Sharon once again let out a cry, her resolve now all but gone. "More! More! More!" With every word Jeremy punctuated it with a kick to the stomach. "Scream for me! Cry for me! Fill me with the noise that fuels me!"

**XXX**

Raymond coughed, blinking and rubbing the blood off of his face. He stared at the now headless corpse of Dolores.

'_Note to self: Trying to force it off with brute strength is a no-no.' _Raymond thought, before standing up and stretching.

"Why won't it end..." Raymond murmured to himself, putting on a false sad voice. He had been doing this occasionally so as to fool those who were listening. He had made it so that they would figure he was barricading himself away from everything, and not that he was planning on his escape.

Raymond brushed a strand of his hair out of his face, before walking over to Victor's body, and once more taking in the collar. It was simple, a black cylindrical band all around the neck. There were no visible screws or hinges or anything that would allow Raymond to get into. However, he did find a thin, half a centi-metre wide gap at the back.

It was here he had tried wrenching the collar apart on Dolores, only to result in the bloody mess.

This time, Raymond took off his shoe and ripped the sole off. His shoe was a wire-framed one, for stability, that he had created himself back in his District. He actually thanked the Capitol for letting them keep their own clothes. Raymond pulled the wire out, before bending it so the end was only around three inches tall.

He then started working on the back of the collar, hoping to get into the gap and possibly open some kind of hatch.

**XXX**

Gary had had everything explained to him when UTK took him into the forest, to a natural tree which was large, the roots curling over making a shelter.

Once again, Gary shook his head. "I really don't see how you plan on getting out of here without killing anybody, and yourselves."

Marvin sighed, and looked to Carlos and Sue. "What do you reckon? We've been talking him for a while now, and I'm pretty sure we can tell him about the plan."

Sue nodded, while Carlos looked indecisive.

"I..." Carlos rubbed his chin, before nodding. "I agree. I think with four people, it'll make our chances much better."

Marvin clapped his hands together. "All right, get up, and come with us. We'll visible show you the plan."

**XXX**

Little did anyone guess, except for Raymond, was that the Capitol was keeping a close eye, and ear, on the Tributes. Mr. Tsukayami, the 'teacher' of the Tributes, was sat behind a monitor which was showing 'UTK'.

"Fools." Mr. Tsukayami said, shaking his head. "There escape won't work."

"Sir, do you want us to activate their now, to stop them from attempting it?" One of the scientists called out from across the room.

"No no no..." Mr . Tsukayami said. "I want to see where they go from here. I'm surprised though, I thought more would try to escape, but it's only those four. We have the typical careers, psychos, and scared kids hiding in houses, but we haven't had any escapees so far in the games. I want to see exactly how far they make it"


	16. Hour 14  15 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Right, I am very happy with this chapter, and it makes up for the failure which was last chapter XD **

**I've looked for information about some of the districts, but found none, so I created my own traits and culture of the Districts. **

**Well, not much to say except read on!)**

_Factories towered over the District of Food Processing, otherwise known as District 9. The factories were dull grey blocks of steel and wood, pillars rising into the grey clouds, the smoke churning into the stormy sky. _

_ The factories of District 9 were known never to shut down. Through wind and rain, snow and sleet, night and day, the factories remained open. The workers, starting at age ten to the end of your life, worked in half shifts. 12 hours a day the citizens of the District had to work._

_ It was on this particularly stormy day, that Anita Rangle had celebrated her 19__th__ birthday. The celebrations were held indoors, on the shift where she was not to work. Most of her family had to work on the other side of the shifts, so there were only four people currently with Anita in the PM side of the day. _

_ Gordon Rangle was Anita's grandfather, a wrinkled fellow with a wide smile. Gordon always seemed to be joyful, laughing happily. Never in her life had Anita seen Gordon do so much as frown. He was able to make light of any situation. _

_ Leo Knight was a boy Anita had grown up with, and always worked side by side with at the factories. With fair hair, blue eyes, and a solid figure, Leo was popular and sought over by many a female. Almost everyone assumed Anita and Leo was a couple, but there relationship was strictly friendship. Anita had made that clear when Leo attempted to kiss her on his 18__th__ birthday. _

_ Anita's real boyfriend was one Kai Sheppard. Short, greasy hair, and a large nose, Kai was unpopular, although he was a very nice boy. It was his personality and charm which captured Anita's heart when she was 15. It was also with him they shared a first kiss, and hours later lost their virginity. _

_ The final member of the celebration was Soren Wrangle, Anita's sister. Only a year older, Soren was brave and strong, and to top it off, she was respected throughout the factories. _

_ The four loved ones were sitting at a small wooden table, laughing and sharing happiness on the birthday. _

_ The main reason for the celebration, the Anita was finally illegible for the Games. At the Reapings since she was 12, Anita hated the Reapings. She always thought she was going to get chosen. Hell, she was chosen when she was 15, to the dread of both herself and her family. It was this day that Kai had finally got to the depths of Anita's heart by protesting the decision. In fact, his following speech was so heartfelt, that a girl named Jermaine volunteered to play the Hunger Games. She had lasted half-way through until she was stabbed by a katana. _

_ Anita should have been happy, or at least, more happy than she was. While she was glad that the Games were over, she wished that her parents, brother and grandma were here. Due to the timetables of the factories, Anita only saw those members of her families for ten minutes a day, if that, when they switched over. For that reason, Anita's parents were unable to care for their daughter like they should, and caused Gordon to raise both her and Soren. _

_ However Anita put on her celebratory face. Joked and laughed. _

_ Until the broadcast. _

_ The news hit home hard. The new mayor had announced that ages were being raised from 12 to 15, and the age limit was now 21. To 'keep the younger generation growing' the mayor had said. _

_ At that moment, Anita knew, she just knew that she was going to be chosen for the Reapings the next day. The streamers and colours all gone from everyone's mind. _

_ A pat on the back from Gordon, a hug from Leo, a kiss from Kai, and tears from Soren. These were the last images Anita would get of anyone as she walked up to her room and sat on the bed, staring at the wall. _

_ She was unable to get to sleep, just continued thinking, and continued persuading herself that she was going to be chosen. At midnight, she was also awake, not moving from the position she was in. Then the door opened. Anita turned to the noise, expecting Soren or Gordon. Instead a black-clad figure rushed in and injected her, whispering only: _

_ "You have been chosen." _

**XXX**

Anita jolted upwards, forgetting she was on a bunk bed, and slamming her head into the metal under bed of the bunk above. Cursing at having hit her previous wound, Anita sat up, rubbing her eyes.

She couldn't believe she had gotten to sleep, but in retrospect, she hadn't much sleep at all, and being injected unconscious didn't count.

Anita sighed, wondering if anyone else had died since the announcements. Of course they had. How many were alive would be the better question.

**XXX**

The south-west beach was completely different from the secluded north-east beach. A slope of grass descended into sand, which grew whiter as it went towards the shore. On either side of the slope were much more cliff-like hills, not as steep as north-east but getting close to it. At the bottom of these hills were collections of jagged rocks, sticking up like spikes.

Furthest away from the beach, where it turned exactly north, an old port stood. Two wooden jetties stuck out into the shore, the wooden pillars impaling themselves through the water and into the sand. The back of the jetties joined into a larger wooden platform, which in turn led to a large warehouse like structure, which seemed to come out of the cliff.

Inside the warehouse were two staircases on either side of the two, creating a hanging platform which went around the outskirts of the area, forming into an office at the back of the warehouse. A wooden ramp went onto the wooden platform in between the jetties, leading onto a pair of metal tracks, which once in a lifetime would have been used to deport boats.

The bottom of the warehouse was covered in junk, which would have looked good whenever it was first placed, but now it was all rusted; Boat engines, fans, steering wheels, scuba diving kits, a harpoon and even half of a boat, all ruined and out of working order.

In the office at the back of the warehouse were UTK. Sue stood by the door, looking out of the window in case anyone tried to sneak up on them. Carlos was nervously folding his arms again and again, a rusty harpoon hanging from his belt. The group figured that that would knock someone out much better than the straight razor he had received would.

Finally, Marvin sat at a desk, looking at a map of the island, with Gary standing in the corner, having got the job of counting the supplies.

Since they were all working together for the common goal of escaping, they had easily shared their supplies. Overall there were five full bottles of water, two half full, and one a quarter full. The food gathered would last for over two weeks, even without rationing.

"Fifteen of us remaining, huh." Marvin muttered, glancing at a piece of paper next to the map. On it was a list of Tributes, though the ones who were dead were crossed out. The remaining Tributes were:

Girl #1 – Lena Brownell  
Boy #3 – Raymond Violette  
Girl #3 – Sharon Nussbaum  
Boy #4 – Craig Voss  
Girl #4 – Candice Laboy  
Boy #5 – Ralph Deason  
Girl #5 – Brittany Hartman  
Girl #6 – Bertha Iglesias  
Boy #8 – Marvin Melancon  
Boy #9 – Jeremy Magruder  
Girl #9 – Anita Rangle  
Boy #10 – Carlos Strouse  
Girl #10 – Cindy Curule  
Boy #12 – Gary Tsung  
Girl #12 – Sue Fann

"Not even half of us down?" Gary asked. After hearing the plan, he had grown somewhat confident. The capitol had no way of knowing what the plan was, considering the group were careful to whisper so quietly that the audio couldn't have picked it up. Although the Capitol knew they had a plan, Marvin said they would see what would happen, and that would be there greatest mistake.

"Nope." Marvin said, rubbing his uneven hair.

"Lot's of threats." Sue grunted. "Cindy, Lena and Ralph leading them. The two careers for obvious reasons and Cindy because she killed the first person, as well as having access to a machine gun."

Carlos nodded. "Her eyes were definitely mad. You got to watch out for Candice, too. When I was fighting the careers, she didn't actually do anything, but the fact she was with them means she has to be a threat, right?"

"Right." Marvin nodded, before he held the notebook up. It read:

_"This is the route we're taking." _

The others also took out there notebooks to write in things they didn't even want to chance getting heard.

Marvin lifted the map up, showing it to the members of UTK. It showed a small dot labelled: Boat, which had a line curving around the beach. Then a line labelled UTK led up the beach, north to the back of the military base, outside of the fence. Then the words "Climb down" were written, before "Take the boat."

For that was UTK's plan. Sue had observed that boats would circle the island every half an hour. The plan was to hijack one of those boats, then hightail it out of range for the collars to explode. Everything seemed perfect. They would wait for one of the boats, swim up to in the dead of night, and take out the crew. Then Marvin would drive the boat. He figured it would be just as easy as the industrial sewing machines he used in District 8, where you had to twist a multitude of knobs, press a number of buttons, or pull a couple of levers in complex patterns.

Everything was set for UTK. At midnight, they would escape from the Hunger Games, and despite living a life on the run, live a life of freedom.


	17. Hour 15  15 Tributes Remaining

**A/N: Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Read on! **

As hour 15, or 8:00 PM hit the island, darkness had started to seep through the town and forest. It was summer in Panem, and as a result the days were long and the nights short. When the Games started at 6:00 AM, the sun was already up. The darkness would prove to be a much safer time for those in need of cover, but also a much harder time for those who liked hunting in the dark.

It was in the mingling shadows of the tree that Cindy was crouched, angry and irritated. She had searched for Raymond throughout the town, but no luck. Again and again she went around town, trying to find any trace of Raymond. The houses all looked the same with the closed curtains, paint jobs, and doors. Finally, she had decided that he must have gone through the forest.

After a quick run through the plains outside the forest, she stood by one of the outer trees, pressing her fingers to her head to try and alleviate her anger. Too much anger gave Cindy a headache.

A small stick breaking caught the girl's attention, and she saw a small squirrel stood at the base of an opposite tree. Immediately Cindy's features softened, and she knelt down, clicking her fingers and making small noises. The squirrel, curious, skittered forward towards Cindy. Cindy put a finger on his head and started stroking the animal.

Seeing this innocent squirrel made everything that much better. An innocent creature. Seeing it made Cindy forget about the Games, forgot about the deaths and murders. It was just her in a forest, communicating with the wildlife. Like she always wished to do. It wasn't the harsh environment of the Stables, nor was it the manmade environment of the Capitol. No, a natural environment, a peaceful environment.

Then without warning, a hand clamped over Cindy's mouth at the same time a large stick cracked into the Squirrel's head so hard the skull split, killing it instantly.

Cindy struggled, pulling at the arm, but it was thick and strong.

"Can't escape, can you?" Lena Brownell came into Cindy's vision, her eyes frightening. "Thought you'd run away from us?" Lena let out a vicious kick in Cindy's stomach. "Thought you'd steal my weapon and get away with it?" Lena grabbed Cindy's smooth skin, staring straight into her eyes. "Now you'll get what you deserve!"

Cindy suddenly kicked out, planting her feet into Lena's stomach, before thrusting her head back, connecting with the nose of one unfortunate Ralph. Ralph released his hold and stumbled back. Cindy charged at him, and with surprising strength tackled the boy to the ground. Her wide eyes were wide with rage, and she started punching Ralph again and again in the face, not stopping until the hard stick connected with her back. With a howl of pain, Cindy rolled off of Ralph to face Lena, who had raised her stick up into the air.

Bringing it down, Lena smashed it across Cindy's face, creating a deep cut in her cheek. Cindy didn't cry out this time, merely stared into Lena's eyes. Lena let out a snarl and went to smash the stick again, but Cindy rolled out of the way, getting to her feet in a flash.

Cindy was now facing Lena with the stick, and Ralph, who had picked up the flail, swinging it threatingly. They started circling each other, waiting for the moment to attack.

"Come on bitch." Ralph taunted.

Watching her two opponents, Cindy couldn't help but grin at the injuries she had given them earlier. Lena had wrapped her shirt around her waist, stemming the flow of blood from the gouge in her side. Ralph was still walking slightly gingerly, his groin still red with blood.

"What's the matter?" Lena hissed. "Scared of the players, scared of the big-boys."

"Oh, I see. You ARE a boy. I had my doubts about you being female." Cindy said coolly, causing Lena's eyes to widen.

"You little bitch! Let's see how cocky you are with your neck broken!" Lena lurched forward, her large weight travelling towards Cindy like a train, readying the stick like a bat. Cindy ducked under the stick and sprinted forward, catching Ralph off-guard. He still managed to swing the flail clumsily, but Cindy actually kicked off the ground in a jump. Grabbing the branch off the tree above, Cindy swung and planted both feet into Ralph's face.

Cindy continued pushing with her feet, driving Ralph to the floor. She quickly grabbed the flail he had dropped, swung 360 degrees, straight into Lena's stick. It smashed into little splinters, cutting Lena's hand open.

Lena cried out, clutching her hand.

Cindy stepped forward, but Ralph suddenly grabbed her ankle, tripping her over onto the floor. Mud and leaves rushed up, and Cindy went face-first into the floor.

"Got you!" Lena cried out with glee, before she grabbed the back of Cindy's hair, actually ripping the hair from its roots. "You wanna look pretty in these Games, huh? I'll ruin you!"

Lena drew her fist back, but someone caught it from behind.

Frowning in her confused state, Lena turned around to be slammed in the face by a fist. The muscled girl collapsed to her knees.

Candice Laboy flicked her hair, before swinging her leg into the side of Lena's neck, driving Lena to the mud.

With a moment of hesitation, Ralph shook his head from stupor and ran towards Candice, swinging the flail as hard as he could.

However Cindy got her revenge, grabbing Ralph's foot, causing him to trip hard downwards. Candice stepped to the side and pushed on Ralph's back, furthering momentum. Ralph went headfirst into the tree, knocking himself out.

"Ouch." Candice frowned, before bending down and picking up the flail. "Nice." She looked up to see Cindy staring at her, looking ready to fight. "Calm yourself down girl. I ain't here to kill anyone. I'm not gonna play the Capitol's Game, at least for the time being. I just wanted a weapon," Candice bent down again, before grabbing Ralph and Lena's bags, which they had deposited next to a tree. "Plus some more supplies. I'll be off then." Candice turned, the three bags, hers and the other two, on her shoulder. Just like that, Candice walked off.

For a brief moment, Cindy considered attacking her, but judging by the girl's movements, she was adapt at fighting, much better than her. Cindy quickly turned and ran away from Ralph and Lena, who were beginning to stir, going deeper into the forest.

Damian was having the time of his life. His clothes were now completely blood-stained, although none of it was his. Damian stared down at the bloody, beaten, and mutilated Sharon lying on the remains of the chair. His face was tight with glee and anger combined into some sick expression.

"Is she dead?" Jeremy asked, glancing at his bloody clothes in slight disgust. He walked over to the wall and leant on it, staring at Sharon.

"Can't you see she's still breathing?"

"Not really."

"I can see perfectly fine."

"I-"

"Shut it! I don't care what you think!" Damian squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar haze of red over his vision. He head butted the wall hard, causing the red to go away. "Good... good..."

"H-h-help... h-help..."

Damian whipped around to Sharon on the floor, who had somehow managed to get to her knees.

Her appearance was horrible. All the fingers on her left hand were broken, while only one was twisted in the opposite direction of her right hand. Damian had taken great care with her toes, ripping the nails out one by one, leaving bloody fleshy gaps. Scratches gouged out chunks of flesh throughout her body, while her left arm was broken, or more preciously, shattered when Damian broke the chair over it.

More horrifying was her face. Teeth were either missing or chipped, one eye was swollen shut, while half of her hair had been ripped from the roots.

Damian walked over to Sharon and knelt down, looking at her straight in the eye. "Help? Help!" Damian slapped her hard across the face. "You think I'm gonna help you?" Damian suddenly grabbed Sharon's face, before pulling her forward, grabbing her collar (flashing the green LEDs) lightly, stroking it with his thumb, admiring the smooth metal. "Whenever I had pets, I always put a metal collar on them. It was something I liked to do. I'm glad you got a metal collar, considering you are MY pet!" Damian let off a brief cackle, before placing his forehead straight against Sharon's own.

"Do you know what I do to my pets when I'm finished with them? When I've finished beating them, when I finished hearing there whines? I break their collars and break their NECKS!" Damian yelled the last word, pulling with all of his might on Sharon's collar.

He quickly hopped back as red lights started flashing on Sharon's collar.

"The only difference is, I don't need to break your neck."

Sharon didn't even try to pull the collar off. She was done, finished. After all the beatings, the scratching, the torture, she wanted it all to end. So she stayed kneeling, facing Damian, who was grinning.

Damian watched, licking his lips as the red lights increased.

In a blast of blood and bone, Sharon's neck exploded, ripping her head from her shoulders. Her head spun around before hitting the corner of the room, while her body fell forward, blood pooling from the neck.

Damian fell to his hands, putting them in the blood, before laughing uncontrollably, splashing the blood so it speckled his face. Sharon's lifeless eyes stared at his maddening laughter, as if glad it had finally ended.


	18. Hour 16 14 Tributes Remaining

With Kayla's penknife in his pocket, and the shotgun in his hand, Boy #4 Craig Voss was ready to act, ready to kill. His usual calm look was gone, anger replacing his pristine features. Kayla did not deserve what she got. Craig ventured around the large tree in the darkness, which had rapidly covered the forest, continually wary. Who knew what lay out here, be it trap or Tribute.

**"**_**Love should be cherished Craig" **_

___"Why so dad?" A 12 year old Craig asked, looking up under his mop of blonde hair with green eyes, contrasting greatly with his tanned skin. _

_ Craig's dad kneeled down. A buff man with a large beard, Amos Voss was a well respected fisherman. "You don't cherish love; you're not fit to be a human being." Amos said from under his beard. "You gotta choose the right woman Craig, and you gotta stick with her for the rest of your life." _

_ "But what about mum?" Craig asked, cocking his head. "You said she ran away from you." _

_ Amos let off a small laugh, before patting Craig's head. "Aye, I did say that, didn't I? I reckon it's time you knew the truth Craig." _

_ "Truth?" _

_ "Yes. You see, your mother didn't run away from us. Or in a sense she did. Your mother is dead." _

_ Craig's small mouth opened in shock. "But-" _

_ "Ssh ssh..." Amos put a large finger on Craig's mouth. "This is why I'm talking about cherishing love. I didn't, and as a result your mother was taken away from us. I... gave up on your mother... and I deserve the punishment I got. You don't though, Craig." _

_ "You... gave up on mum?" Craig asked with wide eyes. _

_ "I regret it, but yes." Amos said quietly. "As my son, I want you to make the best of love. When you grow big and strong in the District, you got to find the right girl for you. The girl who respects what you believe in and the girl who wants to be with you for who you are, not for money or anything like that." _

_ "B-But what about the R-Reapings?" Craig asked, his eyes now watering. "I-I can't find... what you want if I die..." _

_ Amos shut his eyes. He didn't want to think about the Reapings, think about the possibility of losing his only child. "If you are selected... you have to win!" Amos said with determination. "You gotta win, but not be corrupted in the process!" _

_ "But... dad..." Craig looked up once more at his father. "What if I find the person I want in the Games?" _

_ "Your still a guppy, son, you shouldn't be finding love this early." Amos laughed, before turning serious. "But... if you do..." Amos took a deep breath. "You better do the right thing as a man and stay with her throughout. If she dies, you gotta win in her name, you hear me!" Amos almost yelled, before clearing his throat. _

_ "Dad... what if... what if I die?" Craig asked fearfully. _

_ "Don't think like that!" _

_ "But what if I do?" _

_ "Then you gotta persuade her to win, you gotta give her meaning to live on. You got to fight for her love even in death." Amos said stiffly, before standing. _

_**"Come on son, let's get going." **_

"I'll do what you said dad." Craig muttered to himself. "I found the perfect person. Her names Kayla, well... if you're watching you'll already know that. I found her, I loved her, and I'm pretty sure she loved me back." Craig spoke in normal voice now, glaring up at the trees where he guessed some kind of hidden camera was. "I will win in Kayla Nielson's name!"

"Isn't that pretty."

Craig's attention snapped to the trees, bringing his shotgun up with both hands. "Who's there?"

Leaves fell to the ground, and the shadowy figure of Candice Laboy landed on the ground, flail in hand. "Only little old me, Candice." Candice pouted, walking forward.

"Don't take another step!" Craig demanded, the shotgun pointed at her chest.

"Oh? I'm sorry." Candice put her hands up, a grin on her face. "I just wanted to know if you could shot me."

"Excuse me?" Craig questioned.

"You heard me." Candice said, licking her lips. "I wanted to know if you'll live up to you're... 'declaration'..." Candice let the word hand in the air for a moment. "See if you really... really would kill in Kayla's name."

"I'm goddamn serious!" Craig said, cursing himself mentally. Why was he talking to her? If he was going to win, he would have to kill. Just end it now, Craig thought to himself.

"Then why haven't you shot me yet?" Candice asked, raising her eyebrows. "Look at me, a vulnerable Tribute, no chance of getting away. You could shoot me right now..." Candice's eyes snapped to Craig's. "So why don't you? You said you wanted to win in her name, right? Well, that means killing! Shoot me! Go on, do it! Anywhere you want! I give up. After all, I got no chance." Candice sighed, placing a hand on her cheek. "Little old me... just a frail girl combating against a big boy with a shotgun..."

"What are you playing at?" Craig demanded, a bead of sweat falling down the side of his face. Just shoot her!

Candice bared her teeth. "I want you to kill me in that bitches na-"

BANG

Candice was thrown backwards as the shotgun was blasted into her chest. As she fell into the foliage, Craig wiped his head. "First kill Craig..." Craig muttered to himself, turning away and walking. "You know you can do it, you can kill the others."

"But you can't kill me?"

Craig spun around in shock just as his shotgun was kicked out of his hand. The gun hit a tree, falling into a bush. Craig stumbled back in shock, staring at Candice. "H-How...?" Craig got his answer by gazing at Candice's chest. She was wearing a bullet-proof vest.

"Just a little present from the game." Candice said, grinning. "Now, I don't have to harm you. Just give me your stuff."

"No!" Craig yelled and tackled Candice to the ground. Candice carried momentum, falling onto her back and pushing her knees up, propelling Craig into the air causing him to slam to the ground. Candice spun up and cracked her knuckles.

"Gave you the chance. Now I'll have to take it by force!" Candice ran forward, ducking under a rough punch from Craig. She spun on her heel and planted her elbow into the small of Craig's back. Craig let out a gasp of pain, before spinning around and punching Candice in the cheek. Candice stumbled back, holding her cheek.

Craig quickly dived to the side, grabbing the flail Candice had dropped. He hid it behind his back and waited for Candice, and sure enough she ran at him. Craig swung with all his might, but Candice stepped to the side just at the last second. The spiked ball of the flail smashed into a tree, getting stuck fast.

"Shit!" Craig cursed, trying to pull the flail out of the bark.

"Aww..." Candice said mockingly, grabbing the back of his hair and throwing him to the ground. Craig managed to roll, and grinned when his hand came in contact with the shot gun. As Candice came forward, he lifted it and pointed it straight at Candice's head, pulling the trigger.

CLICK

Candice grinned even more and kicked Craig in the hand, knocking the shotgun out of his grasp once again. "Aww... did little Craigy forget to reload?"

Craig clutched his hand in pain; before he was slapped in the face so hard it created a red welt.

"Just give me your stuff!" Candice demanded.

"Fuck. Right. Off!" Craig lunged at Candice, but she just swung her leg once more, connecting to the middle of Craig's legs. Craig let off an unmanly gasp of pain, falling to his knees. Candice kicked him in the side of the face with enough force to knock him out.

Candice took a deep breath, before grabbing Craig's leg and dragging him into the bushes, feeling only a slight bit of compassion. She then grabbed the shotgun, Craig's bag and the flail once more, before moving back to the tree she left the other bags in.

In only a few minutes, Candice put four bags worth into one bag, getting rid of the stuff she didn't need. Putting the much heavier bag over her shoulder, Candice tied the flail to her hip using a strap from one of the spare bags, before keeping the shotgun in her grasp, already wondering who her next target should be.


	19. Hour 17 14 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Angie2282 and Percival-Jones for your reviews! Oh man, I can't wait for next chapter! But for now, let's have ourselves some build-up for it. **

"I can't believe... believe that... I was humiliated like that!" Lena exclaimed, breathing hard. "Humiliated by a little whore and another bitch..."

"We'll get 'em." Ralph said, leaning against a tree gingerly. "Third time lucky, eh."

"Shut it!" Lena snarled, her brutish figure shaking in fury. "I have no... no time to deal with your stupid comments!"

"Hey hey, what's this all about?" Ralph walked forward, raising his eyebrow. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It just might be." Lena said. "We're the remaining of the careers. Or I am, at least."

"What about me?"

"You? You're useless! You've done nothing useful in this alliance." Lena stood up straight, towering over Ralph.

Ralph put up his fists. "So this is it, huh. End of the alliance. Bound to happen anyway, then, wasn't it."

"I'm going to enjoy beating you're god awful brain in!" Lena growled.

"In your dreams!" Ralph said, cracking his knuckles. "I'll beat you, then everyone else. I'll win the Games, while you rot!"

Lena struck first, lunging towards Ralph. Ralph put his arms out and caught Lena's hands, and the two stood at a standstill in a test of strength. With their hands going read, Lena and Ralph leant forward, trying to push the other back.

"Were you... hiding what you could do for real?" Lena said in gritted teeth.

"I've had... no reason to show it." Ralph responded, digging his feet into the ground and putting a last spurt of strength in to his hands. Lena was pushed backwards, and Ralph spent no time covering her with punches and jabs to her stomach and chest. Lena thrust her head forward, connecting with Ralph's skull, before kicking him in the stomach, pushing him away. The breath taken away from him, Ralph bent down, clutching his stomach. The moment he looked up, Lena smashed her fist into his face, throwing him into a bush.

"You're nothing Deason! Nothing without me!" Lena said, stepping towards him. "Just let yourself get killed! Don't waste the effort."

"Shut it!" Ralph threw a clump of mud, which landed square in Lena's eyes. Her hands immediately went to wipe the mud from her eyes, and Ralph took the advantage. He jabbed her in the stomach, followed by a jab to the kidney, before he planted a nice uppercut into her chin. Lena gasped in pain, stumbling back into a tree. Ralph went to punch her in the face, but Lena ducked down, causing Ralph to split his knuckles open on the tree. As he nursed his hand, Lena swung a thick arm into his chest, knocking him to the ground.

Lena started to stomp again and again on Ralph's chest, before finally hearing a satisfying crack and a cry of pain. Ralph managed to flip over, but that didn't do any good as Lena stomped hard on his back, once more hearing a crack. Blood trickled out of Ralph's mouth as he struggled to move. With her feet firmly on Ralph's spine, she leant down and grabbed Ralph's chin with both hands.

"Heh..." Lena said, panting slightly. "You're nothing, Deason. Say hello to the others will ya."

Lena pulled back as hard as she could, using her foot on his back as an anchor, and bending his chin back. For a few fruitless seconds Ralph fought against the pressure, until his neck gave way and it bent backwards, part of the bone splitting the skin and causing blood to spurt out of the side of his neck.

Unfortunately for Ralph, he was still alive, barely hanging on. As much as he wanted to speak, the best he could do was let off a gargle.

**"You're never going to be anyone! You're going to die in the Games!" **

_Ralph snorted, leaning against the wall facing his mother. "Funny thing is mum, is that I'm confident! I'll volunteer, and win!" _

_ "Look at you!" Ralph's mother said, grabbing hold of Ralph's thin arm. "You're nothing but a twig! 16 years old and wanting to win in the Games! You're a fool, Ralph, a damn fool!" _

_ "What are you going to do, huh?" Ralph asked, putting his arms out threatingly. "You're an old woman, hardly worth to be called my mother. Don't you go telling me what I can't do, because quite simply it's MY choice!" _

_ "Fine! Go kill yourself!" His mother exclaimed, shaking her head. _

"_**I just hope that in your last moments you realise that you were wrong!" **_

_****_'_Guess I was mom... Guess I was wrong...'_ Ralph thought, before Lena slammed his head against the ground, mud going into his mouth and open eyes. Nothing worked; he couldn't move his arms or legs. By this time, Ralph just wanted it to end.

A sudden pressure on the back of his head caused everything to go black.

Lena continued stomping as hard as she could on the back of Ralph's head, watching in glee as his skull collapsed inwards. She still continued until it was nothing but mush. With her foot covered in blood and brain, Lena stepped backward, breathing hard.

"Too bad Deason. Too bad."

**XXX**

In the dock, UTK were getting more and more nervous. Sue kept clenching and unclenching her fists, Carlos just stared into space, while Gary was visibly shaking, biting his lip. The only one seemingly not effected was Raymond, who was reading and re-reading the notes.

"This is it." Raymond finally announced, getting the others attention. He stood up, facing the other three members of the make-shift organization. "One more hour guys. One more hour and then we can escape this situation. I'm proud of all of you, as cheesy as it may seem. We are the only people who aren't playing the game. We're the only ones who actually give a damn about human life. We are also the only ones who hate the Capitol and everything it stands for. All our lives we've been in our districts, discriminated against, bullied even by the 'peace-keepers', by people from the very Capitol which made this Game.

"Carlos because you are, excuse me, overweight, Sue because you are stoic and 'emotionless', Gary because of your urge to kill yourself. Me... me because of my sexuality. It's because of this that we are in the Games. Don't think that the choices were random, because trust me, they're not. They just chose the contenders for the debut of this new type of game. Why, if it weren't random, why were we... we kidnapped from our very beds? It ain't random, trust me." Raymond took a deep breath. "So it is that we will escape from the confines of the conspiracy. We will be the first in history to escape from the Games. In one hour from now, we will be off this island. In one hour, everyone will remember us as the ones who escaped, as UTK!"

**XXX**

Raymond let of a laugh. A laugh of relief, and more importantly, a laugh of hope. He dropped the wire and sat back on his haunches. He stared at Victor's corpse in complete ecstasy. Then Raymond looked to the side, where Victor's collar lay, unclipped and definitely not exploded.

_'I did it!'_ Raymond thought. After a good couple of hours, after three explosions, after all the effort, finally it payed off. Raymond sat in one of the seats, thinking and waiting.

The plan of his was risky, but after this success, Raymond was confident. He would wait until midnight, and then he would deactivate his own collar. After this he would make a run for it, knowing the Capitol would be on alert. He'd sprint north to the outskirts of town and jump off the cliff into the water. He would then use the cover of night, and the black clouds to his advantage in swimming the distance to land. Thank god he took swimming lessons.

The pattering of rain made Raymond look at of the window. A storm was coming in, just like he predicted. With the blackness of midnight, and the coming storm, Raymond would have the perfect cover for his escape.


	20. Hour 18 13 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for your review! All right, this is midnight, and this is my favourite (longest) chapter yet. I think I did well, but it's up to you to judge. Read on!)**

"_Ryder here for the third announcement of the Games. It's midnight, which also means the end of your first day."_ Ryder's voice rang out over the docks, where UTK stood together ready to go out, just waiting for the announcement to be over. _"You've been surviving well in the last 6 hours, with only two deaths. The first was Sharon Nussbaum from District 3, poor soul. I'll say I'm glad she didn't have to live any longer. Next and last is Ralph Deason from District 5. So the roster is almost in half. Keep going and good luck." _

Ryder's voice died down, causing Marvin to take a deep gulp. This was it. This was where everything would be determined.

"Let's go." Marvin said, taking off into a run, followed closely by Sue, Gary, and finally Carlos bringing up the rear. He led them down the port and around up the slope from the beach, entering back into the forest. It would take a good ten minutes to reach their planned jumping point.

**XXX**

Raymond had unblocked the house's door and stared at it, mentally preparing himself. "This is it." Raymond muttered, wiping a drip of sweat from his brow. Using the wire, Raymond carefully and fearfully started to manipulate it into the collar.

After getting it into the ridge, Raymond continued manipulating it for a good ten minutes. The collars were constructed so that the main explosive and detecting device was at the front, while the ridge was at the back. As such, Raymond had to make the wire go around the circle of the collar.

There was a sudden gust of wind, blowing the door straight open, hitting Raymond in the chest.

As Raymond fell back, the wire bent and snapped, breaking off inside the collar. Raymond landed hard on the floor. He breathed hard, closing his eyes. '_It's not broken. It's still there. Open your eyes and its still-'_

Beep.

Raymond's eyes shot open, and he caught the red light just in his line of vision being emitted from his collar.

"No..." Raymond muttered. "No no no! Not now!"

Raymond quickly put his hands around the back of the collar, searching for the wire. Instead he found the ridge which had partly clicked open, but not all the way.

The beeps increased, with the red light flickering faster and faster.

"Damn!" Raymond cursed, before pulling on the half open ridge with all of his might. There was a cracking sound, and the ridge opened just a bit more. "Come on!"

Three seconds to go.

Raymond's muscles in his arms bulged as he tried to wrench the hard metal away from each other.

Two seconds to go.

With a loud grunt and one last exertion of strength, Raymond wrenched the ridge completely apart, the collar popping off and to the floor. Raymond quickly backed away just as the collar exploded, creating a nice hole in the floor.

Raymond took a deep breath, feeling his neck. He did it! He actually got the collar off! He knew he had no time to waste, and ran out of the open door into the darkness and the increasing rain. As he ran, the sky lit up, indicating lightning as thunder rumbled.

**XXX**

UTK were drenched to the skin, slogging through the outer parts of the forest as the mud clung to their boots.

"Almost there..." Marvin said, before he came to an abrupt stop. The other three also stopped, their chests rising and falling. "Look." Marvin whispered, pointing out to the rabid sea. Coming from the East was a silver and black boat with an open roof, although the front was covered by glass lined with black metal. It was still far away, but coming in quick for its circulation around the island. "Let's go!" Marvin said when he heard a sickening crack. Marvin turned around slowly, his mouth hanging open when he saw Sue's limp form hanging from the arms of Carlos.

The look on Carlos' face told it all. His eyes were wide, flitting about, while his mouth opened and closed.

"No!" Gary exclaimed, backing away from Carlos. "Why..."

"The Game." Carlos said simply, his low voice rinsed with menace. "You can't escape the Game. You have to follow the rules. If I went out there, I'd die. They would activate the collars and then we'd be done for."

"No... Carlos! No!" Marvin said, glancing back at the boat. "You're not really... you can't really be playing..."

"Yes! Marvin I will do as I please!" Carlos said. "I'm playing to win. I will survive while you all rot. I'm not going to sacrifice myself!" Carlos dropped Sue, who fell to the ground. Considering the slight incline which led to the cliff, her blow torch slid down the slick grass, hitting Marvin's foot. Thankfully it went unnoticed to Carlos. Carlos grinned, his huge frame looking much more menacing now he was an abrupt threat. "I'm playing... I'm playing to win, to survive!"

"You've gone mad..." Gary muttered, shaking his head. "You... you've let the game control you..."

"Let's go!" Marvin exclaimed. "Jump in the water!"

"I won't let you!" Carlos lurched forward, reaching for Marvin. However he kicked the blow torch up so the canister hit Carlos in the jaw. The force was enough to make Carlos gasp in pain. Marvin quickly grabbed the blow torch as it fell, pointing at Carlos chest and letting the hot flames shoot out. Carlos cried out as clothes and flesh merged, falling back onto a tree.

Marvin grabbed Gary and nodded, receiving a hesitant nod back. Marvin and Gary jumped at the same time off the cliff, to the waters below.

**XXX**

Raymond ran faster than he had ever run before. The Capitol would soon realise he wasn't dead and that he got the collar off, and would come at him fast. He pushed leaves and branches out of his way, running through the forest. He suddenly stopped as he saw a figure breathing hard against a tree. Raymond hid in the shadows as the big man lurched away, muttering to himself. Raymond slowly went forward when his foot hit the body of Sue. He stifled a gasp as he saw her clearly broken neck.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Raymond froze. That was a voice he really didn't want to hear.

"I wonder what you would look like in the same position."

Raymond spun around with the machine gun that was hanging at his hip in his hands. The barrel pointed straight at Cindy Curule.

"That is mine." Cindy said, her brows furrowing. "You will give that back, and pay for it with your life."

"I don't have time to deal with you!" Raymond said. "Back away or I will shoot you."

"You won't." Cindy said, stepping forward.

"I will! Just watch me!" Raymond closed his eyes behind his glasses. "I will-"

"You won't!" Cindy said more forcefully.

Raymond opened his eyes only to find Cindy cocking her head up at him. He tried to move his finger, but was unable too.

"See." Cindy said, smiling. "I knew you wouldn't shoot."

Raymond grit his teeth, cursing himself inside. He needed to run, he had to go, but something stopped him. He just couldn't hurt a human being. Tazoring someone is one thing, but harming someone for good just didn't work well in his books.

"Now I'll have that." Cindy said, before suddenly swiping her hand up, grabbing the machine gun by the barrel and pushing it upwards into Raymond's jaw. Raymond stumbled backwards as Cindy pointed the gun at his legs and pressed the trigger.

A spray of bullets later Raymond's legs were practically cut off, blood pumping from the pulp where the bullets hit. Raymond screamed in pain as it coursed through his body like electricity.

"Revenge..." Cindy said in her sickly sweet voice. "Revenge is... oh so sweet."

Raymond watched helplessly as she came over slowly.

'_Come on! It can't end here! All your troubles, all of the effort only to be killed here! No!'_ Raymond thought with himself, and managed to grab push the barrel of the gun away just as Cindy pressed the trigger. Instead of hitting his chest, the bullets went into the ground, although a couple hit his shoulder, breaking the skin.

Raymond ignored the increasing pain and grabbed Cindy's wrist, pulling her down onto his chest. He rolled over, using his weight to pin Cindy to the ground.

Cindy struggled to push Raymond off, but her frame was too small.

"Got you..." Raymond whispered. "Got you good..."

Cindy stopped trying to push, and instead drove her heel into Raymond's mouth, actually knocking a tooth out. Raymond yelled in pain, but stayed put on Cindy's chest, making it hard for her to breath.

"Not... letting you go..." Raymond managed to utter as blood spilt from a split gum.

"You will!" Cindy pushed her thumb hard through the lens of Raymond's glasses and into his eye, simultaeonsly cutting her thumb open. Raymond howled in pain, throwing himself off of Cindy. Somehow Raymond stood on his legs as blood poured out of them, propping himself with his shoulder on a tree trunk. His good hand held the machine gun which he managed to pick up as he went back. It was pointing straight at Cindy's chest. The barrel was actually touching just below her breast, so she could actually feel how warm it was.

"Screw morals..." Raymond gasped, his chest rising and falling. "I'm gonna escape... and you're not..."

Cindy actually felt scared. More scared than the first time she went into the stables. More scared than any other time in her life.

Raymond pressed the trigger, and held it.

Bullets sprayed out at point blank, carving through Cindy's chest, through muscle and ribs, ripping arteries and nerves to shreds. He continued holding the trigger, firing bullets into Cindy's now bloody frame. Finally the machine gun clicked, indicating it was out of ammo. Raymond dropped the gun, Cindy soon followed, her lifeless eyes flecked with blood.

Raymond took one step forward, before his legs failed completely. He pitched forward head first off of the cliff, landing with a splash into the waters below.

**XXX**

Marvin was engulfed in blackness, for a frightening second he thought something was grabbing at his feet, before he realised it was seaweed. With his mouth shut tight he kicked upwards, breaking the water with a large gasp. Just as sudden the rain hit once again, battering Marvin's head. He looked around the water, and spotted the shadowed figure that was Gary.

Gary raised a hand and Marvin swam over the rising waves.

"You okay?" Marvin asked, glancing at Gary.

"Fine..." Gary sounded down heartened, his hair stuck to his face. "I can't believe... Carlos... he killed Sue... we can't do it..."

"We'll get through this! I'm sorry about Sue, but we can make this! Just the two of us!" Marvin encouraged, before kicking off and starting swimming. Gary followed suit.

The two swam for a good minute before Marvin finally came to a stop. He grabbed Gary's shoulder and pointed silently at the metal boat that was coming up fast. It was only a few metres away.

"Ready?"

**XXX**

"Stupid radio!" Ltd. Jeffrey cursed, banging his fist on the top of the radio in the boat carriage. On the boat were three people. Himself, and two normal soldiers named Ramsay and Pablo. Pablo was driving the boat while Ramsay was sitting on a mounted machine gun.

"Typical." Ramsay said, shaking his head. "I was enjoying hearing about that Carlos betraying them."

"But we don't know what happens." Pablo said in broken English. He was mute most of his life, but after surgery in the capitol, he was able to talk again, only he had to learn. "Does Carlos kill them? Or they escaped?"

"Carlos is big." Ramsay supplied. "He'll be able to take care of 'em for sure."

"True that." Pablo nodded, driving around the corner of the cliff. The boat's hum was calming to himself. "So, who you want to win?"

Ramsay let off a laugh. "I'd say there are two main choices. The Cindy girl, she is like a repressed beast. Beating her is Jeremy... Damian... whoever the hell he is. He is one sick bitch who has the balls to win this thing."

"Nah man." Jeffrey shook his head. "It's all about the love. Craig's the man to win this thing." Jeffrey was a well known 'softie' within the military. Although he wasn't afraid to shoot where it counted. "On the females side though, I think it's his fellow District Tribute Candice. If this was like old times, those two would have been a hell of a team. District 5 all the way. What about you Pablo?"

"Brittany." Pablo instantly said.

"Really?" Jeffrey questioned. "That's a bit random."

"She got the smarts. Waitin' and watchin'. She'll come up in a surprise and BAM!" The moment Pablo exclaimed that Ramsay let off a scream. Jeffrey whipped around, machine gun at the ready only to be tackled to the steel ground. Before he knew what happened, a blow torch was placed hard onto his eye and pressed, practically cooking the insides.

Marvin panted after taking care of Ramsay and Jeffrey by surprise.

BANG

Marvin stumbled backwards, holding his chest in pain. He looked to Pablo, who had twisted around in his seat with a pistol in hand.

"You ain't survivin'." Pablo snarled, before a figure grabbed his neck and pulled him backwards. Pablo's head bounced against the side of the boat before he was pulled into the water unconscious. Gary climbed onto the driver's seat.

"Good one!" Marvin exclaimed, moving forward while holding his chest. "Brilliant Gary. Now move over so I can drive this thing. Oughta be easy." Gary complied and moved out of the seat, letting Marvin sit down and take the wheel.

"I can't believe we did it!" Gary exclaimed, shaking his head. "We've made ourselves into the walking dead now. We've killed members of the Capitol. No forgiveness. At all!" Gary started tugging at his hair. "This is wrong. Big mistake Marvin, big mistake!"

Gary looked up to see Marvin look out the front of the boat's window. He followed his gaze.

There was another boat which had just come around the cliff face, and the machine gun was pointed at them.

"No... No... Nonono!" Gary's eyes widened. "I don't want to die!"

"I'm sorry." Marvin merely said as blood fell down from his fingers. "You may have had a chance if we didn't find you. I've led you to your death." His voice was weak.

The opposite boat started firing.

Bullets smashed through the boat's windows, breaking it to pieces. Bullets hit into Gary's chest, before one went straight through his neck. As he fell, another bullet shot through his eye, killing him.

Marvin also got covered in bullet holes, mostly to his chest area and shoulders. However one bullet split his cheek open, given him a scary look. Blood spilling out his mouth, Marvin slowly slipped off the chair to the ground.

"E-E-Escape..." Marvin managed to utter. "A-A-All I wanted... e-escape..." Marvin slowly crawled over to the side of the boat and pulled himself up, grabbing the blow torch on his way. Thank god it still worked after the water. He was lucky enough to get to Jeffrey and Ramsay. Marvin spotted what he was looking for. Where the Capitol would put the petrol to fuel the boat.

Opened the hatch, Marvin placed the nozzle of the blow torch into it.

"Ain't... gonna be used... f-for capitol's e-experiment's..."

Marvin clicked the trigger for the flame, allowing it to go into the petrol tank. For a moment there was silence, before the fumes caught fire.

The boat then exploded, taking Marvin and Gary's body with it. Chunks of metal flew everywhere as a great plume of fire lit up the darkness. A signal to all who cared to watch that UTK's attempt at escape failed.


	21. Hour 19 10 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! I enjoyed this chapter, hope y'all do to!) **

As the storm continued to develop, Craig Voss looked from the hill going down to the cliffside towards the place where the explosion had happened. 15 minutes earlier he had saw the explosion itself from the side of the island further away, and he wanted to investigate. Now he saw the burnt out, half-exploded chassis of the boat.

"Someone got hold of a boat?" Craig muttered to himself. "Wow. Too bad it failed." He shook his head. He'd been looking around for someone to kill to no avail. It seemed everyone was hidden away. More specifically he was looking for Candice Laboy. The bitch took his shotgun and knocked him out. If anyone deserved death, it was her. Definitely her mistake for not finishing him off.

He shrugged and turned, jogging further across the side of cliff, before something caught his foot and he tripped head over heels, crashing down onto the floor. Craig groaned slightly before turning on the floor, staring straight into the moving eyes of one Sue Fann. Craig gave a slight yelp, scrambling to his feet, expecting Sue to attack.

But the girl from District 12 couldn't attack. Her neck was broken, yet she was still alive. Barely. She couldn't feel anything under her neck, and her head was filled with pain. Sue couldn't even make a sound, her mouth hanging open involuntarily.

Craig prodded her with his foot, garnering no reaction apart from Sue's eyes fearfully flicking up towards him, causing him to look at her face again.

"What happened to you?" Craig asked, cocking his head at Sue. There was no answer. "This a trick? You gonna jump at me?" Still no answer. "Or is something really wrong?"

Finally Craig's eyes strayed over to her neck, realising it was at a very wrong angle. "Ah... that'd be the problem." Craig sighed, closing his eyes. "I have to kill everyone, but you will die eventually. I won't resort to kicking a man when he's down." Craig straightened up and stepped over the frightened Sue's body,

He took a few steps forward, before he noticed a shadow slumped at one of the tree's bases. Craig went to investigate, and his eyes widened when he saw the body of Cindy Curule. Her eyes were wide open, staring at Craig as if into his soul. Craig shivered, glancing at her pulverised chest area. He looked back up to her face, feeling disturbed by the ever-staring eyes. Craig seemed captivated by the dead eyes, but at the same time scared. For a good few minutes he was attached to those eyes before he managed to drag himself away from her gaze, quickly running back into the forest.

'_Just death Craig, just death. You're going to see much more of it on your way.'_

**XXX**

The thin figure jumped from roof to roof, ignoring the rain which stuck his hair to his face. Jeremy Magruder replayed the moment Sharon's collar exploded again and again, relishing the blood drenched excitement. Jeremy was now hunting. Hunting for the next pet, the next pet to play with.

Only thing was, they all seemed to be hiding away.

Then Jeremy spotted the tower of the church.

"Perfect..." Jeremy said, before he suddenly clutched his head, a red haze covering his vision. He let out a pained gasp, falling to his knees. Damian started beating his head on the roof of the house again and again until his forehead was smeared with his own blood as well as Sharon's. Finally Damian stopped, breathing hard, the colours back to normal. He stood up, ignoring the wound on his head and looked back up at the tower. Perfect place to hide. Perfect for the prey to be. Damian spotted a sudden movement at top, until it disappeared.

"Seen me..." Damian said, licking his lips. "Seen me you have... you'll be waiting at the entrance to the tower... mmm..." Damian leaped on the next building, landing on all fours. "You'd be expecting that... yes you would; you'd be expecting that..." Damian cocked his head sideways, looking up through the rain. "Yes you would... perhaps I'll give you a chance... yes, add a bit of fun , a bit of... ahh... intrigue..." Damian stood back up and threw his head up to the sky. "I'm coming for you!" He yelled as loud as he could, before he sprinted across the roof, cackling madly.

**XXX**

"I'm coming for you!"

The shout sent shivers down the spine of Brittany Hartman as she heard the voice and the accompanying laugh. She had the wire in her hands, hiding back at the ladder where he would definitely come up. '_It's fine... just like last time... get his neck and tug on it. It's not like he can fly is it...?' _Brittany let out a nervous laugh, gulping and waiting for the person.

"Found you!"

Brittany swung around in surprise to see a figure crouched on the railings of the tower, shrouded in darkness. Lightning suddenly flashed, lighting up the blood-drenched figure of Damian. Brittany backed back to the fall, frightened and horrified. Who was this person? Surely not human.

"Got you! Got you!" Damian hopped down and stood up straight, grinning widely. "Who are you, hmm?" Damian flicked his tongue outwards, giving him almost a lizard like appearance. "Ah... Brittany Hartman I believe. Girl #5 yes... Let's hear you squeal!"

Damian stepped forward in a flash, grabbing a hold of Brittany's arm and pulling her backwards as thunder rumbled.

"Let's dance!" Damian cackled again, spinning a very frightened and confused Brittany around his body, before he bent her backwards and leaning over her, so his nose was touching hers. "Don't want to play? Mmm... how sad... how sad indeed..."

"Get away from me!" Brittany pushed Damian back with all her strength, turning around and quickly sliding down the ladder hole. Damian stared down.

"A fighter! I love fighters!" Damian cackled as he slipped down the hole, following his prey.

**XXX**

Brittany landed on the ground after sliding down the ladder and took off, running in between the pew of the church. She elbowed the wooden doors open out into the stormy weather. Despite being unable to see, Brittany knew that Damian was behind her, following her. Brittany turned around the corner and started going down the street.

She risked a glance behind her and saw Damian only a few metres away, leg's pounding. '_How did he get that close?'_ Brittany thought, before she took a right down the side of a house. Her feet hit a muddy back garden before she grabbed the top of the fence and pulled herself over, landing on her feet in a back alley. She continued forward into another garden, kicking open the back door and heading through the hallway out front.

Behind her Damian leaped nimbly over the fence, rolling and taking off even faster through the opposite garden, going through the open back door. He was about to go through the front when it slammed shut, crashing hard into his face with enough force to make him crash backwards into a wooden cabinet.

**XXX**

Brittany started running again about ten seconds after slamming the door again; taking off down the street in a rush, hoping that she would lose Damian.

**XXX**

Damian had picked himself up, rubbing his nose. "Heh..." he opened the front door and ran forward, only to trip and roll against the floor. He glared at the bottom of the door to see wire which was wrapped around two posts outside the door, creating a trip wire. Damian got up again, looking around for Brittany, but she was nowhere to be seen.

**XXX**

Breathing hard, Brittany had her back against the exterior wall of the town. As it was, the town was one of these old military towns, built specifically to house the families of the soldiers. The concrete wall rose up to Brittany's waist, with a metal chain link fence going up for another 6 foot. Brittany was hunched down behind the concrete wall, out of sight, wet, miserable and completely afraid.

She hoped that he was gone. Hoped that the monster was gone. Then a voice struck her out of her reverie.

"_I'm singing in the rain!"_

Brittany stifled a gasp, hunching down even more as the tone-deaf voice of Damian was heard.

"_I'm singing in the rain! What a glorious feeling," _Damian's voice paused. "_To keep on killing again!" _

Footsteps were heard behind Brittany just opposite the wall. She gulped, gritting her teeth and keeping quiet. She ventured a look upwards, hoping against hope that she wouldn't see him.

She saw him.

"Peek-A-Boo... I... see..." Damian cocked his head sideways, his grin widening. "You!" Damian hopped over the fence and landed on all fours again. "Pretty aren't you. Like the last one." Damian grabbed Brittany's cheek and forced her to look at him. She was crying now, the exterior she held on for the majority of the games washed away. "Do you want to know what I did to her? Well? Do you!"

"N-N-No! Go away!" Brittany managed to say, tears mixing with rain.

"I beat her! I scratched her!" Damian pulled the trident from his back, which he was wearing on a make-shift sling. "I poked her and watched her squeal! More importantly..." Damian pressed the trident lightly against Brittany's side, just enough to draw blood. "I loved it! Loved it!" Damian let go of Brittany's face, stroking his own, putting blood onto his finger. "This is her blood, you know. Her lovely... tasty blood..." Damian licked his finger, before his head suddenly jolted forward and he collapsed to the ground. Even someone as mad as him couldn't take a shotgun butt to the head and remain conscious.

Candice Laboy offered a hand to Brittany. "You have no reason to trust me, and I appreciate that. I'm a stranger. As things go though, let's form an alliance, hmm? I don't trust the boys, and certainly not that Lena. I figure you're the only one I can trust."

Brittany was shocked to see tears running down Candice's face. "I-I..."

"Silly me..." Candice sniffed. "Crying for the whole nation to see. It's just been hard as hell... Will you accept the alliance? At least for now?"

Brittany stared at Damian's motionless body apart from faint breathing, and that made her decision. "S-Sure... I'll come with you for now..." The encounter with Damian had shook her completely, making her realise that alliances would actually be a very good thing. Brittany grabbed Candice's hand, lifting herself up. The two new partners started jogging away from Damian.


	22. Hour 20 10 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Read on!) **

Sue was filled with regret. Not pain, not sadness, just regret. Typical of her, really. Sue was always the silent type, the one who wants to get the job done and not talk much. Back at District 12, that's how it always was. She did her mining job, came back, slept and repeated the process. That was her life, and truth was, Sue was fine with it.

After all, she was alive and in relative comfort. Not much more to ask for. The money from Katniss helped everyone. She was definitely the most generous of any of District 12's winners, the few that there were of course. Sue had never really payed attention in her repetitive life, but she always remembered Katniss' face during the Reapings, especially when that girl last year, Lazuli Pyre, was chosen. The usual face of knowing a Tribute would likely die.

Sue was also in the Reapings, not really caring if she was chosen or not. But nope, in the end Lazuli went out and got herself second to last. It should have been something celebrated, but since she had actually killed herself, the District felt ashamed. Sue didn't though. Didn't feel much of anything.

Sue closed her eyes, for once in her life feeling the urge to cry. Regret was a horrible feeling. She regretted allowing Carlos to get the jump on her, regretted the fact she never talked to anyone back at the District. But more than anything, Sue regretted not talking to Gary and getting to know him. They were from the same District, and Sue did nothing about it. All she knew was that he was called Gary Tsung and that was it.

_Stupid! Stupid! _Sue said in her mind, before there was a pounding pain in her head. _Always alone... and that's your own fault! Alone because you were happy doing the same thing over. You could have been friends with Gary, but no, still alone. _Another pulse of pain shot through her head, before her eyes slowly lost tension.

And just like that, Girl #12, AKA Sue Fann died much like she lived. Alone.

**XXX**

"STUPID!" Carlos Strouse beat his hands against the tree as he yelled. He'd been doing the same thing for a while now, going in circles and beating on trees and snapping branches until his dark hands were broken and bloody. "Stupid!" Carlos slammed his head against a tree, fighting with his emotions.

On one hand, he hated himself. Hated himself for succumbing to the games and for breaking Sue's neck. Why did he have to succumb?

_To live. _

Carlos hated to admit it, but it was true. He wanted to live. Always scared of death, more than anything Carlos wanted to live to a ripe old age. Now he was in the Games. If he wanted to continue to live, then he would kill. Simple.

Carlos took a deep breath, his vast chest rising and falling. It wasn't hard at all, cracking Sue's neck. Like a twig. It didn't even feel that wrong at the time. Carlos sighed, his head still against the tree. Yet he knew it was wrong. Killing was wrong. To survive though... it was right. Definitely right.

Carlos wanted to scream, and actually did when he felt something on his ankle. He kicked backwards, his foot connecting with something making a low groan. Turning around, Carlos' eyes widened at the blood-soaked wreck which was Raymond Violette. He seemed even more soaked than just being in the rain, crawling with one hand, the other arm usually hanging by his side. His legs were a mass of red, useless limbs dragging along.

"Shit!" Carlos said, kicking Raymond hard in the face again. Raymond fell onto his back, cursing under his breath. It was under his open shirt collar that Carlos saw – or rather, didn't see – the collar. Just a bare neck. Carlos shook his head and backed away. A trick, had to be. The Capitol was messing with his head. No way they could get the collars off. The Capitol would have made sure of that.

Shaking and thinking he was delusional, Carlos ran deeper into the forest with heavy steps.

"F-Fu.." Raymond muttered, spitting blood from his mouth. Raymond was intelligent, he had proved that much. However, because he knew this Raymond knew he wouldn't be able to swim away, not without his legs and one arm. It was hard enough getting up the damn cliffside. No. Now Raymond had another mission, another last hurrah. As things were, Raymond was pretty sure he wasn't going to survive this thing.

No, now he had a plan. He had a plan to stuff it to the Capitol in his own little way.

**XXX**

Damian was happy. Ecstatic. "Fun!" He grinned, looking up so the rain was splashing down onto his face. The chase, oh god, how Damian loved his chases. Candice and Brittany, oh, they would be taken down. But Damian was interested in this alliance. Interested in how they'll play the game. Damian rubbed the back of his head where Candice had hit him. Oh yes, he would make her pay, the question was, how?.

Damian crawled on his belly across the mud, almost slithering like a snake. His nose actually touched the mud as he traced the faint boot prints in the ground belonging to Candice and Brittany. Damian suddenly stopped, sitting up cross-legged.

Then his head snapped to the side, coming into eye contact with a squirrel which was chattering. He tutted lightly, clicking his fingers. With a number of coaxing sounds, Damian slowly urged the squirrel over before putting it in his lap, stroking slightly which would have made Cindy proud.

Damian licked his lips, staring at the beady eyes and the bushy tail. "What's it like for you, hmm? To be in a forest full of killers? Are you sadistic little one? You like watching those who die? Perhaps you're scared." Damian cocked his head. "Or a mutt. Hmm... Could be a mutt. Maybe you are Sharon. That would be pretty, wouldn't it. Another pet, the same pet, yet a different pet."

The squirrel let out another chatter.

Damian picked the squirrel up in the palm of hand, stroking it with the other. "I can see the resemblance in you... you know what it is, little one, the resemblance to my pet?"

The squirrel cocked its head as if responding in confusement.

Damian suddenly bit down into the neck of the squirrel hard, ripping flesh and muscle. Damian continued biting into the already dead squirrel, creating a nice hole it's neck. Damian dropped the dead critter to the floor, facing it. "Blood! Blood! Resemblance of blood! Her blood, your blood, everybody's blood! It's all the same!" Damian cackled, before falling back to the ground to follow the two girl's tracks.


	23. Hour 20  Backstage

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Right... Risk chapter! Hopefully I explain it well and I hope it works, if not... well it's too late, but I'd still like to read your critiscms (IF any)... phew... read on!) **

Kai Tsukayami, otherwise known as Games Master and 'teacher' for the 101st Hunger Games stared at a particular screen of the 28 screens in front of him. Apart from four black ones, each tracked a single tribute, following them with the cameras, including those who have died. There were only nine active Tributes. Candice and Brittany who were talking together with Damian tracking them. Carlos who was walking through the forest, Craig was investigating the town where Bertha was muttering to herself. Finally there was Lena who was also in town, and Anita who was hiding down in the underground hideout.

"Sue Fan has died." One of the technicians reported, pointing to Sue's figure on the screen.

"All right." Kai said, nodding. "Are you still keeping track of Raymond?"

"Yes sir." The technician said, pointing to another screen with Raymond crawling. "What do you want us to do about him?"

"Let him try what he wants. We'll see what he does, and then we'll deal with him much like those two who tried to escape." Kai said, before there was a knock on the door. Kai turned to see the scarred figure of none other than Ryder, last year's winner.

He was leaning on a walking stick, the small scars covering his open skin shadowed slightly. Two prominent scars still showed though. The one under the brim of his shorts, from where he was impaled by a sword and the jagged line across his neck. Perhaps the most unusual fact was the metallic arm that was holding the walking stick, considering he had to get it amputated after breaking it to the point it was never going to be usable again. Behind him were two guards.

"Yes?" Kai asked irritably. He never liked Ryder and his personality. He was supporting James much more. The psychotic ones are just so much fun to win.

"Those four are here like you asked. They were the ones selected from the submissions." Ryder said. "They'll just be a pleasant addition to the games, won't they?" Ryder rolled his eyes.

Immediately Kai's face lit up. "Good, good. Come with me, you'll need to see them too for when you announce them."

"Sure thing... sir..." Ryder let off a small laugh. God he hated this job, but when your father and very life were threatened... well, he didn't win the previous Games just for laughs, did he.

Kai led the way, followed by the tapping of Ryder's walking stick.

After going through a couple of corridors, he entered the room which was used as the 'classroom' at the beginning of the games. Standing next to the wall were four very different people, each with a very distinguishing characteristic.

On the left end was a boy wearing a grey jacket, white vest and somewhat of a grin on his face. His left fist was clenched, while his right arm was actually missing. The sleeve of his jacket was pinned to his shoulder.

Next to him was a nineteen year old woman dressed completely in pink. She wore a pink dress with a frilled hem and sleeves along with light pink socks and high heels. Even her hair was a bright pink, standing out like a sore thumb. In her right hand she carried a small brown teddy bear.

Leaning on the wall next to her was a tall and well toned young man. He had vibrant red hair that was spiked up. His chest was bear, leading down to black trousers and a silver belt. A tattoo of barbwire spun around his left arm.

Finally on the right side was a young woman wearing a ripped vest and skirt, both black. She wore thick black boots with buckles, along with gloves missing the fingers. Her deep black hair was streaked with purple, the same purple as the makeup on her eyes and lips.

"They just look peachy." Ryder said sarcastically coming in sight of the four young adults.

"You should know why you are here." Kai said, crossing his arms.

"Yeah... we want to win... to kill... to get the money." The red haired teen drawled.

"That could be why only you are here Jackal." Kai said. "No, you are here to represent the Capitol. President Raven decided on this to show that we, as the Capitol, are not as heartless as most think. Fifty of you volunteered, and out of those fifty, you four have been chosen. President Raven is hopeful that you will show that the Capitol is just like the Districts."

Ryder snorted somewhat, causing a glare directed at him from Kai.

"Right. This is Ryder, the special guest announcer for the debut of this new style of the Games."

"So nice to meet you. I'm sure our relationship will be fruitful." Ryder said dryly, causing another glare.

"Ryder, let me introduce to you the four Capitol representatives." He pointed at the red-haired teen. "This is Jackal, son of the famous weapons inventor Kyle. The one with the bear is Andrea, daughter of a fashion designer. The one armed teen is Ricardo. He lost the arm on his first year on the military, so he was sent back. Finally the girl is Gretchen, who is the daughter of President Raven."

Ryder's eyes visibly widened. "The daughter of Raven? Damn, he really wants to prove to the Capitol that he would let their own kids die for this twisted program."

"I'm not going to die." Gretchen said, her purple eyeliner making her look even more scary. "I am not here to play games. I am here to represent my father and earn his respect. I will kill everyone in this game for that sole purpose."

"Hehe... If you can, that is!" Andrea said shrilly, her laugh actually hurting those who heard her. "You look so ugly, so you are not going to win!"

Kai nodded approvingly. "What about you, Ricardo?"

"What about me." Ricardo asked, furrowing his brows. "I am here to simply prove to you and to all the military, that just because I lost an arm I can still fight! To proof I don't need an implant like you." Ricardo practically spat the last word as Ryder, who shrugged.

"Fun." Ryder said, turning to Kai. "So when do you want me to announce these guys?"

"Once Hour 21 starts." Kai said.

"Fine." Ryder said curtly, before pushing the guards out of the way and tapping his way out of the room, followed by his guards.

Kai turned back to the four new Tributes. "Right. In approximately fifteen minutes, you will be going to the arena at minute intervals. You will leave with your given bag. What you do is your own will. Ally or kill, it does not matter. Though I have been assured that you all are here to kill. When the buzzer sounds, Jackal, you will go first. After the next buzzer it will be you, Andrea. Third will be Ricardo, and fourth will be Gretchen. Remember, you are here representing the Capitol to the Districts. Do a good job. Three of you will certainly die, possibly all four of you."

"Pretty sure we're all prepared." Jackal said, a smirk on his face. "So get your face outta here. We know exactly why we're here."

"Guards will be in along with you, so that you don't kill each other in here." Kai said.

"Kill each other? Why would we want to do that?" Andrea let off another sickening laugh.

Kai shook his head, exiting the room and leaving the four Tributes with the guards. The Games would definitely get more interesting, that much was for sure.


	24. Hour 21  13 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the reviews! Hopefully I'll justify my act of putting four new tributes in. Read on! **

Anita was happy in the underground world of hers. She heard the announcements, sure, but she didn't have any participation in the killings, so nothing was directly or indirectly her fault. All she had to do was wait it out until they all killed each other, and then take out the last person, or, if luck was on her side, the last two would kill each other leaving her to walk out in victory.

The hiss of the speakers made her sit up. It couldn't have been six hours yet, surely.

"_Good early morning to you Tributes, Ryder here with a special announcement. The Capitol want to show that they want to repair relationship's somewhat with the Districts, and that they are slowly getting there. President Raven has decided to import four Capitol Tributes into the Games. That's right, for the first time ever the Capitol have sent their own to their deaths. I for one think it's just more bodies to the pile, but oh well. They are Boy #13 Jackal, Girl #13 Andrea, Boy #14 Ricardo, and finally Girl #14 Gretchen. With that, I'll see you in three hours. Keep it up, and watch out." _

Anita's eyes widened in surprise. Was this true? Was the Capitol really making some kind of effort to fix relations? Anita shook her head. No, it couldn't be. 100 years they've been practically terrorising us... but then, that was with President Snow. Could this Raven really be thinking about relations?

While Anita's thoughts whirled, they pinpointed on the fact that there were four more people. Possibility was, they had been watching the Games beforehand. That means they would know where Anita had been for the last 11 hours. That would mean they would come here all guns a blazing.

"Oh no..." Anita muttered to herself, realising the danger she was in. How long was it when those Tributes were released? Anita immediately stood up and hefted her bag up. She had to leave.

**XXX**

"New Tributes?" Brittany said while making a makeshift spear out of a broom handle, a wooden shard from a broken chair, and using her wire to put it all together. "What'll these guys think of next?"

"Who knows?" Candice said, tapping her shotgun on her knee. "The Capitol is scum, end of story. That means these guys are scum. They'll also be playing."

"You certain?"

"Definitely. I mean, with a name like Jackal I highly doubt he is going to be a small 15 year old with pockmarks and a funny attitude who hates killing, don't you?"

"True." Brittany finally finished the crude wood spear. "You want the spear?"

"Nah. I got the shotgun." Candice said, lifting her shirt to reveal the Kevlar vest. "And this." Candice unstrapped the Kevlar vast to show some nasty bruises around her breasts.

"Oh my god!" Brittany explained somewhat surprising herself. "What happened to you?"

"Shot by this very shotgun by that bitch Craig." Candice said, rolling her eyes while poking the bruises gingerly. "He's a lovesick wolf, ready to kill anyone and everyone for his 'true love'."

"True love?"

"That Kayla gal." Candice said. "You know what I reckon?"

"What?" Brittany leaned forward slightly.

"I reckon he's mad in the head." Candice tapped her forehead knowingly.

"How does that work? You mean the death impacted him that greatly?"

"No, I mean that HE killed her, see." Candice said. "Accident or not, I don't know. Either way I think he just wants to forgive himself by winning in her name."

"Makes sense." Brittany said, sighing happily and leaning back a smile playing on her lips.

"Why're you smiling?" Candice asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's just that we're having a fairly normal conversation, ignoring the fact it's about death. No one's following us, about to kill us, or anything. We're on our own in this military base with firearms and weapons. We're stocked. It's just... this is a much better situation that I would have been on my own."

"Same here." Candice said.

"Not really." Brittany said. "You single handily beat up Craig, Lena and Ralph while managing to escape unharmed from the brawl in the house, at least according to what you told me."

"Luck. Got them by surprise." Candice said, smiling as well. "Who would suspect little old me? But then I get them, and then bam! Mind you, it's only boys I go after."

"Uh... problem..." Brittany said. "Lena's a girl."

"Have you seen her? She's more brute than beautiful. Not like you or me. She acts, looks and sounds like a boy, so therefore, she's a boy in my eyes."

"Guess that makes sense." Brittany sat back more comfortably on the bed. "So we still going with the plan?"

"Yes." Candice nodded. "We can't escape, we know that. But we can get through to the end together. After that, we'll do ourselves in. I don't want to win by killing you."

"And I don't want to win by killing you." Brittany said, grinning. "As far as I'm concerned, this isn't just an alliance. This is the start of a whole new friendship."

**XXX**

Gretchen sat in the crook of a tree, high above the ground. Propped next to her was her bag, and in her hands was the weapon she had been assigned. It was a short sword, though a very sharp one. Gretchen didn't actually care what the weapon was. Even if it were a fork, she'd make it deadly. Gretchen flicked a purple strand of hair from her eyes and lent backwards. It was a matter of strategy. She closed her eyes.

"So you're one of the new Tributes, huh."

Gretchen stayed in place, opening one eye to see Lena standing with her arms crossed. Gretchen regarded Lena coldly, before closing her eyes again. She knew the size on Lena was just show. She wasn't deadly in the slightest.

"Not a talker?" Lena said, stepping closer. "Look, I'm not here to fight."

"Nor am I for the moment." Gretchen said. "Now get going."

Lena was taken back. This was definitely not how she planned it. Lena was going to go to one of the new Tributes, Ally with them then strike them in the back. Not this calm, cool stature that was Gretchen. "Okay, why don't we hang out then? Y'know, till you decide you want to play."

Gretchen let off a snort. "Hang out? You think this is a Game? It's not a Game. Killing is not a game. This so called game is the start of respect."

"Respect?" Lena questioned. "I can give you that. Respect is good, y'know. I respect everyone."

"Did you respect Boy #5, Ralph Deason when you broke his neck? What about Girl #7 Dolores Berman when you bludgeoned her with the mace? You have no respect for others, and you especially don't deserve respect. Get out of my sight before I show you just how much respect I have for you."

Gretchen closed her eyes, while Lena starting thinking hard. This was a chance. Take her out quick and easy. Killing one of the Capitol's would be a rush. She'd be a legend! Slowly Lena pumped herself up, then decided on what she would do. She would feign going away, but then twist around the area, coming back on Gretchen and smashing her to a pulp.

"Fine, fine. I haven't got anything on me, so I'll be going. Let's hope I don't meet you again." Lena sighed, turning around and taking a step forward.

That was the last step of her life.

There was a sudden sharp pain in Lena stomach, and she looked down to see a blade protruding from it. The blade retracted, before it appeared again just under her throat, Gretchen holding it against Lena's neck. Gretchen threw her other arm around Lena's shoulders.

"I have no respect for you." Gretchen said lowly. "No respect for you, or anyone else. I only need one man's respect, and I will stop at nothing to gain it. Be happy, though. You are the first of many to participate in my search for respect."

Gretchen slid the sword cleanly across Lena's neck, digging into skin and veins. As blood pooled out, Lena collapsed to the side gurgling and spitting blood. She let off a final spasm, before she became still, quite clearly dead.

Gretchen regarded Lena's body with a cold demeanour, before going back up to her tree and shutting her eyes.


	25. Hour 22  12 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the Review. The history of Panem in this chapter I feel makes sense in terms of what would actually happen. So, read on and tell me what you think.) **

The Districts always thought that the Capitol was a place of technology and flamboyant people. They saw the high metallic buildings on TV, saw the people, and saw what the Capitol always wanted them to see. What the Capitol didn't show the District's were the backstreets. The allies. The dark places people just forgot or ignored.

The Capitol had enough to deal with trying to control the Districts, so the 'Back Streets' were left well enough alone. They were monitored, but tolerated. After all, they kept things to themselves most of the time.

The difference between the Back Streets and the actual Capitol was that they thrived on history. Stacks of old books and comic books, sometimes half-burned or ripped lined the small living areas. There were old fashioned clothes with faded brands, shoes that were scuffed. The Back Streets didn't like the so called future, and were open about it. In fact, the Capitol treated it as a sort of dump for all the useless discovery's when they flew out to now destroyed civilizations. America managed to survive in the major wars hundreds of years ago, but other countries weren't as lucky. Places such as Germany and France were taken over by Russia. England isolated themselves, cancelling any and all trade with Europe.

England had fallen eventually out of stubborness, allowing for Russia to take over the island. As it was, Russia, or rather Libertas as it was known now, was one of the major nations, on equal if not better as Panem. They were prepared for war, but no action had been taken by either side. Panem never talked about Libertas in history, rather keeping it a secret to all but those who went to visit for business. Panem was better off thinking they were the only Nation, otherwise people would get ideas on trying to immigrate.

One such person had immigrated though, although rather than from Panem to Libertas, it was the other way round. A boy with no parents, no siblings, and no name hid away on one of Panem's ships. When they got back to homeland, the boy was discovered on the ship. Instead of killing him, they threw him into the Back Streets, saying he could live there as long as he didn't come into the main area of the Capitol. The boy grew up with other orphans or those who were cast away. Often lame or otherwise disabled. They nicknamed each other, like Gazelle or Bison. This boy, however, was nicknamed Jackal for his occasional fits of anger.

Now grown up and in the Games, Jackal was tracking like his namesake would. Remaining quiet, lull the prey into a false sense of security until you strike them in the back. As Jackal moved, he pushed leaves and branches quietly out of the way with a truncheon that was his assigned weapon. Despite his vibrant red hair, Jackal was unseen. Years of sneaking around in the Back Streets helped him greatly. A forest was just like a city, just replace buildings with trees.

And who was Jackal tracking? None other than one Craig Voss. The boy wasn't aware of his follower, merely looking around for someone to kill so that he could win the games in Kayla's name.

Jackal smiled to himself. The boy would have to rest soon, and when he did... Jackal was ready.

**XXX**

On the opposite side of the island, Anita Rangle was making her way down a collection of rocks, gingerly climbing down. Even though it was all but useless, Anita wished she had her wrench. It would give her a degree of confidence, if any. Anita finally dropped down to the beach below, staring out at the blue haze that was an indication the sun was about to rise. The storm had gone, although black clouds still remained in the sky, looming and threatening.

Anita sat on one of the rocks. She came into the Games confident and cool. Ready to play, ready to kill. As it turned out, she wasn't ready at all. She was shaken when Brittany attacked her, death seeming to come. Then she fell off the tower and cut her head open. No, Anita was scared now. The grim reality had hit. Unlike before the Games when she thought everyone was for show, now Anita realised that was a mistake. People were playing. Out of fear? Pressure? Plain old blood lust? Who knew, and Anita didn't know and didn't care.

So she sat looking out at the sea, admiring the somewhat peaceful scene, away from death and away from Tributes. All alone.

Anita slumped further down the rock, so her back was against it. Free from worries, at least for the moment, Anita was caught in the great view.

**XXX**

"Not yet... not yet..." These words were repeated again and again as Raymond crawled through the now coming dawn. He had to take a break for a while, and he almost lost it. But by forcing himself onwards, he could persuade himself to move. Raymond was fixated on what he had to do to make his name known, what he had to do to at least prove to himself it wasn't in vein.

As he was so fixated on the path ahead, Raymond completely missed the flash of pink to the side. There was a high-pitched gasp as something heavy hit into Raymond, winding him and causing him to get tangled with someone with a pink dress.

Andrea cursed, rubbing her head and sitting up. She looked to her side and saw that most of her bag contents were strewn about. _Well, that's what you get when you try and check what you got while moving. _Andrea let off a small giggle, before suddenly her eyes widened as she realised her hands were empty. "Eliza?" Andrea's large eyes looked around before she caught her bear laying on the ground. Andrea reached for it when she touched something cold and somewhat squishy in the bushes. Andrea drew back in disgust, grabbing Eliza on the way. Tentatively, Andrea pushed the plants aside, revealing Raymond's mutilated body. Andrea shrieked and fell back to her bottom, breathing hard. She hugged Eliza close to her chest, calming herself down.

"Shock, shock..." Andrea muttered to herself, before she put Eliza in front of her. "I was shocked for a moment there. You make it all better." Andrea stood up and started picking her strewn possessions of the bag. "Dead bodies are not good at all." Andrea grabbed the bottle of water, before seeing a small oval green object on the ground. Andrea picked it up and stared at the grenade. "I was assigned a grenade? Could be useful, Eliza." Andrea nodded and placed the grenade in her back, before taking a quick look around to see if anyone had been investigating the noise. Andrea took off in a light jog.

After a minute, Raymond let off a deep relieved sigh. _Thank god for small favours..._Raymond thought, carefully moving to his belly and looking down at something in his hands. _And thank new Tributes for BIG favours... this changes my plan a lot._

In his good hand, hidden away from the Capitol's eye's lay a grenade. While Andrea was assigned two, she didn't know that, and had assumed she had just the one. Thankfully the other grenade had fallen practically into Raymond's hand.

Raymond kept it tucked away, and continued his crawl towards where he remembered the bunker was.


	26. Hour 23 12 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the review. This chapter hints at my next main event so say. Read on!) **

Craig shook his head, stopping for a moment to take a drink from the water bottle. His search was going nowhere. Obviously people were just hiding, and not actually playing. Stupid people. Hiding gets nowhere. Merely delays the inevitable. Craig suddenly heard a snap behind him. Instinctively he ducked just as a sharp metallic cylinder impaled the water bottle, causing it to split. Craig turned around only to get hit straight-on by Carlos' fist.

Craig fell to the ground as Carlos ran forward, kicking Craig hard in the stomach. Craig gasped in pain, coughing. Carlos picked Craig up and slammed him against a tree back first, and started strangling him with one large hand.

Craig spluttered and struggled, kicking out at Carlos, but he just ignored it.

"Stop struggling!" Carlos growled, punching Craig in the ribs with his free hand. "Stop making this... so hard!"

Craig replied by swinging his leg up in between Carlos' legs hard enough to make even the strongest man whimper in pain. Carlos' eyes widened and he backed away, wincing. Craig landed on his knees, coughing and retching, trying to draw more air into his lungs. He stood up, panting at around the same time as Carlos did.

"Call that a surprise attack?" Craig questioned, shaking his head. "Heard you from a mile away. Guy your size is not going to be good at sneaking."

"Why're you talking?" Carlos asked, clenching his fists. "I am killing you whatever you say!"

"Got a reason?" Craig asked, stepping forward. "Huh? Got a legit reason?"

"I have to survive!" Carlos said, his chest rising and falling.

"You selfish asshole!" Craig suddenly ran forward and tackled into Carlos' stomach. Momentum took both Tributes down. Craig was atop of Carlos, punching his face again and again. "Doing this for yourself? I despise you!" Craig heard a crack as he made contact with Carlos' nose.

"What are you doing it for then? Huh?" Carlos asked, pushing Craig in the chest hard. Craig was pushed off and backed away.

"Love!" Craig exclaimed. "For Kayla! Not at all for myself!" Craig went to step forward when he was cracked hard in the side of the head by a truncheon. Jackal leapt from the bushes and sprinted forward, swinging the truncheon up to slam Carlos in the jaw. As Carlos' head bent upwards, Jackal thrust his head forward, making contact with Carlos' own. Still Carlos stayed standing up, groaning.

Jackal grinned, before he stepped behind Carlos, hooked the truncheon around his neck, and started pulling hard.

Carlos started struggling as his air was cut off, the truncheon pressed hard into his throat. He let off a growl and threw his weight forward, flipping Jackal over his shoulders. The Capitol Tribute was caught off guard as his back hit the ground. Before he could get to his feet, Carlos ran forward and shoulder barged Jackal into a tree.

Jackal cursed as he was crushed against the tree, pain filling his shoulder. The truncheon had dropped out of his hand, onto the ground. Carlos panted, throwing a fist towards Jackal. Jackal ducked and used his thin frame to go straight under Carlos' legs. Jackal got to his feet, only to encounter a harsh pain in the side of his ribs. He growled and turned around, seeing Craig standing with Kayla's penknife in his hand, the only thing Candice didn't take away.

Jackal went to attack but a thick arm grabbed around his neck, compressing his air. Carlos squeezed harder and harder, keeping eye contact with Craig.

For a moment, Craig hesitated, before he stabbed Jackal in the gut with the penknife, one, twice, three times.

"Fuck you!" Jackal managed to grunt, slipping out of Carlos' grasp as the fourth knife shot went towards him. The blade missed him and stabbed in Carlos' chest. Carlos groaned in pain as blood immediately started to fall. He clutched his chest, stumbling back.

Craig turned to get Jackal, but he was running away, holding his stomach yet sprinting fast. Craig turned back to Carlos, who had a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Blood was now dribbling from his mouth. Craig walked forward, ready for the first kill in the games.

Carlos spat a goblet of blood to the ground. "I-I... I just wanted to live..." Carlos managed to say weakly. "All I wanted..." Carlos watched as the penknife blade approached his eye, watching it glint in the new day sunshine.

_**"Look at him. He's just a weakling." **_

_Three 17 year olds stood around Carlos, who was bleeding from the mouth and nose. _

_ "He's just like the pigs he trains at the stables." One of the kids said with a smirk, kicking Carlos in the ribs again. "I reckon the pig realises that Carlos is one of them, so he listens to him." The speaker pressed his foot against Carlos' jaw. "Come on piggy, fight back." _

_ "I don't... fight..." Carlos managed to say, before the boy pulled his foot back, splitting Carlos' lip. _

_ "Aaww, you don't fight? Too bad!" The third teenager said, kicking Carlos in the spine. _

_ Half an hour later, Carlos was found by his father, bloody and beaten. Now he was sitting in front of his very disappointed father. _

_ "Why didn't you fight back, son? Why didn't you be a man?" _

_ "I wanted to live." Carlos mumbled. _

_ "What?" His father asked. "Say that again?" _

_**"I wanted to live! They would have killed me if I fought back!" **_

Carlos realised that he should have never succumbed to the Games just as the blade entered his eye. Carlos had a torrent of pain run through his body for a second, before it all went blank.

Craig pulled back the bloody penknife as Carlos slumped downwards. He wiped it off on his trouser leg, before letting off a grim smile. He turned and decided to search town again. After all, that was his alternating routine. Town, forest, military base and repeat. Craig started walking.

"Doing this for you, Kayla." Craig muttered as he left Carlos' body.

**XXX**

Jackal put his back against a tree, glancing down at his stomach to see that it was red. He had picked up his bag where he had left it, and was now rooting through it. He grabbed the bottle of water and methodically poured over the three stab wounds, washing away the blood. Next, he ripped the handle of the bag off, which was long enough to go around his stomach. It was also thick enough to cover all three stab wounds, which were fairly close together.

After tightening the strap and attaching it behind him, Jackal held the bag under his arm, smiling. This is what he was looking for. The true excitement of the Games. Actual permission to kill. In the Back Streets, you had the gangs and the killers, but the guards dealt with them. There were fight clubs for those people who wanted excitement, and that was essentially what Jackal was. After coming back from Libertas, he wanted to proof to himself that he could survive. He trained and trained, fought and fought, all for the moment of somehow getting into the Games.

Then one of his friends had informed him that there was going to be a special Games to celebrate the 101st Games. He said he got it from a reliable source, and that there would be guns and collars and that near the middle, the Capitol were planning to add four Tributes from the Capitol in. So Jackal worked hard, gained credit from beating opponents in the clubs. He left his chest bare as a sign that he would wear no armour, just use his own pure skill. The Capitol heard of the famed fighter of course, and he was in the right age range.

From there, Jackal had his lifelong dream made into a reality. The pure excitement, adrenaline, and completion of the Games were here. Craig was a prime example of this. Jackal was now heading for the military base so that he could find out if anyone was hiding there, and if they were, were the playing? Jackal wanted to fight those who were playing, wanted to find the true competition. The question Jackal wanted answered was who would join Craig in the competition?


	27. Hour 24  11 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Right, I had a plan for this chapter, it failed, so I rewrote it to what it is now. Read on! **

"_Good morning Tributes, Ryder here for the fourth announcement of the Games. It's been 24 hours, so you've been at it for one whole day. More importantly, you've been at it for the last six hours. Here's the list of dead. Girl #10 Cindy Curule, Boy #12 Gary Tsang, Boy #8 Marvin Melancon, Girl #12 Sue Fann, Girl #1 Lena Brownell, and finally Boy #10 Carlos Strouse. I've been told to tell you that if you try to escape, you will be killed. So, on that happy note, I'll leave you at it. Good luck, and I'll be here in six hours for the next announcement." _

"Shut it..." Raymond Violette murmured to himself, his teeth gritted in pain. "Shut it you damn fool..." Raymond was in a pretty bad place. To add to his unusable legs and arm, his vision had blurred and his skin a pasty white. More importantly, Raymond knew he was on his last legs.

But his objective was in site, he could see it. Just beyond the last layer of trees was the clearing which housed the bunker. Raymond's plan was quite simple. With his grenade in hand, he was going to go out with a bang. They didn't know he had a grenade, they didn't think he was a threat. If anything, they'd want the information on how he got the collar off. If that goddamn teacher didn't come, then he'd blow up the first people he saw.

"Heh..." Raymond coughed, his body shaking. From getting the collar off, to getting shot practically everywhere, to falling in the water and crawling god knows how much distance to get here. This was going to be the –

Raymond's head suddenly snapped to the side, a large hole appearing out of his ear in blood and gore, while a smaller one was on the opposite ear. Raymond's body let out a last spasm, before he lay on his back, quite clearly dead.

Ricardo smiled grimly to himself, a pistol in his hand. "You know what they say kid. Through one ear, and out the other." Ricardo let the pistol hang in his hand where he poked Raymond's corpse. He faced the bunker across the trees, although he couldn't get any closed. "See? Just cause I lost an arm doesn't mean I can't kill! Doesn't mean I can't sneak up on people! Did you see that, huh? Shot him clean through and he didn't see it coming! He's the first on my agenda. I will prove why you lot were wrong about me!" Ricardo spat on the ground, before leaning down and grabbing the grenade in Raymond's open hand. "Thanks kid." At that, Raymond turned around and walked away.

"Quite a lot died..." Brittany said with a bit of sadness.

"Hm..." Candice responded. "All the better for us, I guess."

"I guess." Brittany relapsed back into silence.

"Come on, don't feel bad." Candice said, going to sit next to Brittany. "It's the nature of this game, unfortunately. People will die, and there really isn't much we can do about it. On the plus side, that means that there are..." Candice quickly looked on the back of the map. "11 Tributes remaining, or nine if you don't count us. I'd bet that those Capitol folk we be killing and killing like the bloodthirsty scum they are, so that means in six hours, I'd estimate only four left. Us... perhaps that Jackal, just because his name sounds freaky. Who else..."

"Damian." Brittany said. "Easily Damien, or Jeremy, or whoever the hell he is. He is a freak, a pure psycho. He has the pure animal instincts to survive. I bet even now he's stalking some poor soul, waiting for the right moment."

"Well then, those two would be perfect against each other, wouldn't they? They'd likely kill each other, leaving us. Trust me, Brittany, it's fine." Candice smiled, causing Brittany to smile back.

"Glad I have someone I can talk to. I want to get some sleep, since I haven't even relaxed much since the beginning of the games. I had to keep concentration up in that tower. You'll keep watch, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Go to sleep, I'll wake you up ether in a couple of hours or when we get attacked." Candice let of a small laugh. "Go on, go to sleep."

Half an hour later, Brittany was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling. Candice looked at her with a sorrowful face, the sun shining on Brittany's peaceful face. Candice raised the makeshift spear over Brittany's head.

"I'm sorry." Candice murmured. "It really was fun, but it's about time I start thinking on wining. I can't have you betray me. I'm sorry."

Candice thrust the spear hard down. She stared down, a tear falling from her cheek. It feels onto the edge of the spear, which was a mere centimetre away from Brittany's cheek.

"I-I... I can't do it..." Candice let off a small laugh, standing back and dropping the spear. '_I... I'm such a fool dad, such a damn fool. Thought I was able to do anything when it called for it, but she showed me something I never saw before. We talked happily...' _Candice shook her head again, wiping her eyes. _'Guess this is a friend, huh. Guess this is what you always talked ab-' _Some primal instinct residing in Candice suddenly went off like an alarm in her head. She crouched and spun around, at the same time picking up the spear.

The expertly thrown trident missed by inches, embedding itself into the wall above the sleeping Brittany's head. Brittany frowned in her sleep, peacefully unaware of Candice grunting as she was tackled into.

Candice went head over heels, before thrusting her foot into Damian Magruder's stomach. Damian stumbled back as Candice charged him. But he slapped her hard in the face, before letting off a laugh.

"A change of heart?" Damian asked as Candice stood up warily. He pointed to Brittany. "Couldn't do it, huh? Don't have the... guts?" Damian licked his lips, taking a step towards Candice. "What's the problem, pretty girl? Did you find yourself someone you actually care about? Well isn't that just... amazing. Friendship in the games, something everyone aspires to. But you know what?" Jeremy took another step forward. "It's all a farce! A falsehood! A damn lie! Let me tell you something, pretty girl. The moment you let your guard down, the moment you go to sleep when she is awake..." Damian pointed at Brittany again. "She'll stab and stab until you're a bloody heap on the floor," Damian put on a mock crying accent. "And in death you'll be crying and wetting yourself because you're best friend betrayed you... Let's make a deal." Damian put on his normal cold and sinister voice.

"Make a deal with you? No dice buddy." Candice snarled.

"The least you can do is hear little ol' Damian out. I'll walk out this door, I'll leave you in peace. I'll give you the chance to kill that little bitch before she can off you! I leave you alive, for you to kill the traitor?" Damian took another step forward. "How does that sound, pretty girl?"

"Sounds like..." Candice stepped backwards. "A load of shit!" She suddenly lashed out with a kick to Damian's stomach, before rolling to the side and grabbing the shotgun leaning against a cabinet. She spun it in her hands until it was pointed straight at Damian's face. "Don't you even move or I'll blow your brains out!"

"Really? What if you realise..." Damian suddenly put on a 'puppy dog eyes' expression. "...that poor old Damian is the victim? What if... by some possibility... you realise that I'm your... friend?"

"The only thing you are to me." Candice said, before she suddenly lashed out again, smacking the shotgun barrel into the side of Damian's head, knocking him clean out for the second time. "Is dead weight."


	28. Hour 25 10 Tributes Remaining

Jackal panted in pain, clutching his stomach. He was leaning against a tree, his skin pale. This wasn't how it was meant to be, it was meant to be fun, he was meant to be the hunter, not... not this! "Just a stab wound... you've had worse..." Jackal said to himself, breathing hard. "Why... why the hell does it hurt so much!" he exclaimed, cursing as he lifted himself to his feet. He stumbled forward before grabbing another tree, trying to keep himself up. "Fuckin' fuck!"

Jackal spat out blood, edging forward, tree to tree. Eventually he made it to the clearing which would lead either to the town or the military base. He stared out to the still cloudy sky, before stepping forward out to the clearing.

It was then that a shadow cast its way across the early morning sun. Jackal saw some kind of bird flying in the air, peaceful and free. Jackal snorted and continued stumbling his way across the field, feeling weak.

"Little bird, what say you?" Jackal muttered to himself as he walked. "Woodpecker, how shall I act?"

**XXX**

_"__**I am not a threat. Please talk." **_

___The small girl with large blue eyes looked up. She couldn't have been more than ten, though she was thin and dressed only in a ripped white dress, covered in grim and all sorts. She sat huddled in the corner, refusing to look up to the young boy known as Jackal. Jackal frowned, rubbing a hand through his red hair._

_ "Why don't you talk? Are you mute?" _

_ The little girl shook her head. _

_ "Then do you have a name?" _

_ Again the little girl shook her head. _

_ "Most of us are nameless. I'm Jackal, though that's not my real name. I think you should be called Woodpecker. How does that sound?" _

_ The little girl, Woodpecker, let out a small smile. "Wo-od... peck...er?" she said in cracked English. _

_ "That's right. Woodpecker. That's you." Jackal sat down, crossing his arms. "How did you get here little Woodpecker? This is a bad neighbourhood for small girls, that's for certain." _

_ Woodpecker pouted, and looked away. _

_ "We don't have to talk, though I'm not going to move until you do so." Jackal yawned. "I'm stubborn like that." Jackal looked to Woodpecker, who was still sitting with her head turned away. "How 'bout I tell you a story, and then you give me a story in turn? This story is about a little boy with parents who beat him, and who had no friends. The boy's name was Drago, though he doesn't exist anymore. Drago was a sad boy, living in a nation who didn't allow free speech, much like Panem. However unlike Panem, they liked to kill and torture the poor, not let them live. These people were horrid. They were bullies. One day, Drago decided enough was enough. He killed his parents out of fury as they didn't want him to leave. Drago laughed over their corpses, before he left for the docks. Drago was a small boy in a big world, with looming cranes and monster-like machinery. However, Drago felt confident and brave, looking away over the murky water. Drago imagined what a different life would be like, he imagined himself a big burly man, who wasn't afraid of anything. A man with his own country, with his own people. A man who wouldn't show any weakness to its kingdom. So Drago managed to sneak on a trading ship from a different nation, thinking of his future. Drago came to the nation of Panem, and soon found they were almost the same as his old home. Yet Drago could live in the backstreets, and he heard all about the Hunger Games. Drago decided to take on a new identity, he decided he didn't want to be known as Drago anymore. A name of the past. He would take a new name, and he would participate in the Hunger Games as someone new. He would get the prize money, and he would form his own kingdom on an Island far away. That was Drago's dream, and dream he still wants to live out." _

_ "Are... you Dr-ago?" Woodpecker asked with wide eyes. _

_ "No. That may have been my past, but I am not Drago anyone. However I follow his dream for his own country. When I'm big and strong, I'm going to be the King!" Jackal grinned. "That's why I be the leader of gangs, so that I can be my own King. What about you, little bird? I've given you a story, how about you tell me one?" _

_ "I... do-on't have a story..." Woodpecker frowned. "I do-on't have pa-arents... or bro-others... I live... on the stre-ets. Always."_

_ Jackal stood up, offering a hand. "Let's make you a story then, shall we little Woodpecker? Why don't you start by living with us? Become a part of history, Woodpecker!" _

_ Woodpecker grinned wider than before. "Sto-ory? Yes! Yes, sto-ory!" _

_**XXX**_

Jackal found himself on the ground as he remembered little Woodpecker, blood leaking out from under the strap. His arms trembled and legs shook, but he stayed on all fours, staring down at the ground. "What would you do if you knew, little bird? What would you do if I broke my promise?"

**XXX**

_"__**You're lying! You're lying! It can't be... you're lying!" Jackal screamed, his eyes wide. **_

_"Jackal, please. We wouldn't lie to our boss, would we?" One of the younger boys said, shaking in fear. _

_ "Where is she... show me or I'll know you are lying!" Jackal said, causing the boy to nod and start walking away. Jackal followed through the backstreets before they stopped at the base of a tall apartment building. A grimy white sheet lay at the bottom, covering a frail figure. _

_ Jackal stumbled over and fell to his knees, his red hair covering his dry eyes. He carefully peeled back the sheet, before he let out a gasp, letting the sheet drop. Jackal clutched a hand to his mouth, his eyes wide, but still dry. "Why... Woodpecker, why?" _

_ "We tried to stop her." One of the boys said. "But she said that she wanted to fly away to find a free country... she said... she said that she wanted to give it you for your birthday." _

_ Jackal stared at Woodpecker's body. "You foolish little bird... why? You cannot fly... was it me? Was it because I often talked about flying away to find our country? Little Woodpecker... I'll find that country you sought, and I'll found it in your honour. I'll get into this year's Games, I'll win and travel to my country with the rest of the backstreet! We'll make a statue and put it right in the middle, and every day we'll have an hour of silence to honour you and... an..." Jackal sniffled, his eyes finally releasing the pent up tears. "I'll win for you little bird. I promise you, I'll win for you!" _

_**XXX**_

Now tears fell onto the grass , glistening like morning dew. Jackal was smiling despite crying. The months of training, of changing himself so he was able to be the Hunter, so he could kill and track and more importantly... win... all for his little bird. "I'm sorry... Woodpecker..." Jackal said, before his arms finally collapsed and he fell onto the lush grass. "...I'll fly with you... up where you are..."

At the final breath, Jackal became the first of the top ten to succumb to the Games.

**(The first of the Capitol Tributes goes down. Sorry to Jackal. Anywho, thanks to Percival-Jones for the review, and I'll see yo next time. **


	29. Hour 26 9 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review. Only slightly shorter chapter today. Read on!) **

Anita shivered slightly. It was much colder than yesterday morning, though the sun was still up. Instead of holing up like she did before, she now was on the move all the time, so that she wouldn't be caught off guard. At this point, Anita couldn't trust anyone, not that she would anyway. 'Kill or be killed', that was her motto, going hand in hand with her favourite word: 'Independence'. That was what life was about in general. On your own. You make your own life, your own choices, you don't hang on other peoples coat tails otherwise you'll be thrown off your own path.

It was the same in the Games, really. As she always thought, straight at the beginning, it was kill or be killed. While she realised that she couldn't kill from that beach fiasco, Anita would work her way into the situation. The beach... Anita thought that she would be safe there for a while. She couldn't have been more wrong. For three hours she thought she'd be fine, but then she encountered Ricardo.

Thankfully the first shot missed, hitting the sand and alerting Anita. She found herself turning to see Ricardo on one of the rocks, feet firmly keeping him balanced. He was patient, waiting for her to make a move, waiting to catch her off guard. Anita thought he pressed the trigged, went to avoid it, and realised he faked it... and then almost got shot in the shoulder. If Ricardo hadn't lost balance, she would've been dead right now.

Anita had stared at Ricardo on the ground, in a very vulnerable state. She had thought about it... killing someone. Anita had tried, tried to shoot him with his own pistol, but couldn't bring herself to bring the trigger. She wasn't some bloodthirsty Capitol, or part of the careers. She was a daughter and a sibling with her sister waiting back home, and then she would make sure her parents would get to see her. To do that she had to kill, she knew that...

Anita finally concluded the only time she would kill would be in self defence or when it was her and whoever else.

Now an hour after that situation, Anita was careful and watchful for any surprises. She had taken the pistol with her, of course. Who wouldn't?

Anita heard a movement behind her, and swung around, pistol in front of her. No one was there, just the bricks of the walls and the white paved floor. Out of the corner of her eye Anita saw a shadow leaning over a wall, however when she turned, it disappeared.

'_Just run!'_ Anita thought to herself, but she felt surrounded, felt like if she didn't know what the shadow was, she wouldn't have the chance to escape.

There was the sound of a fence shutting, and Anita saw said fence hitting the wooden post. She carefully walked over, pistol in front of her. Inching slowly forward, Anita suddenly kicked open the gate and swung her view around the hedge, but still, no one was there.

Anita lowered her gun, and that was when she felt a piercing pain through the back of her thigh. Falling to one knee, Anita managed to turn around and fire the pistol, but it only ripped cloth and not skin.

"Bertha missed... blood is dirty... I'll have to take a shower..." Girl #6 Bertha Iglesias muttered, a broken piece of what could have been one of the fences in her hands.

Anita went to fire again, but Bertha was surprisingly quick, knocking the pistol from Anita's hands with the wooden shard. Anita went to stand up, but her leg pulsed in pain, causing her to gasp.

Bertha took the chance and with wide eyes slashed Anita across the chest with the sharp wood.

Anita felt the urge to scream as her clothes ripped along with her skin, blood already welling up in the wound. She didn't give Bertha the satisfaction thought, and made a grab for the wooden shard.

However Bertha stabbed forward through Anita's palm, pinning it to the hard mud of the garden. Anita panted, on one knee and bent slightly back due to the wood in her hand.

Was this it? That was what Anita was thinking, pain blurring her vision.

Bertha looked oddly blank, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. The clean freak tilted her head slightly, before pulling the wooden shard out from Anita's hand causing Anita to tumble to the ground.

On her back, Anita stared up at Bertha. She managed to roll over, spitting blood out of her mouth. Anita weakly put her hand out and went to grab Bertha's ankle, but a sharp pain in her back causing Anita's hand to clench involuntarily.

Bertha left the shard in Anita's back, and turned away. In her almost black vision, Anita watched as Bertha walked away, going into the house.

Anita tried to breath, but found she couldn't. Rather than the expected panic in her death, Anita felt almost calm. Calm, but sad. _Soren... granddad... Leo..._ Anita's vision went completely black as the faces of her loved ones that she usually saw invaded her find. The final face was on the not so attractive but kind and sweet Kai, her boyfriend. _Kai... _

Anita Wrangle, Girl #8, succumbed to her wounds, the blood loss and injuries combined just too much for her body. The faint smile on her lips showed that she was thinking happy thoughts in her last moments.

**XXX**

Inside the house, Bertha had walked up the stairs, simultaneously taking off her clothes. Shirt, bottoms, underwear; now naked, Bertha went into the bathroom and turned the shower knob. She smiled as water came out. _I'll be clean... not dirty, clean... yes, clean. _After the water turned warm, Anita stepped under, looking up at the cascading water from the showerhead.

She felt excited under the water, it was the first time in a day she had washed. All the filth, the disgusting dust and blood washed off, as if some kind of magic potion making her feel rejuvenated. Not just in mind, but strength. Bertha felt it was time to start hunting much like she did with Anita. Start to act, and not to wonder around.


	30. Hour 27 8 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the review. Right, off we go hm?)**

"This is certainly a pleasant way to wake up. Tied to a chair with two girls? I like that!" Damian grinned as he opened his eyes to find Candice watching him with Brittany still on the bed. Brittany's wire had been used to secure Damian's hands and ankles.

"Shut up." Candice said, crossing her arms.

"I could... but then again, what are you going to do?" Damian licked his lips. "Kill me? You can't even kill an ally, so what about a friend?"

"You are not my friend."

Damian let of an exaggerated gasp. "My my! I'm insulted! I thought... me and you... we had something special..."

Candice shook her head in disgust. "Just you wait. Once Brittany wakes up, we'll decide what to do with you."

"Untie me, perhaps?" Damian suggested. "Smother me in cream? Dance for me? I got a number of suggestions, you know. My input can be very useful. However tell me why you don't wake the wire girl up?"

"She needs sleep."

"Aah. Sleep." Damian tutted. "Sleep is a horrible experience. Nightmares, nasty stuff it has to be said. I got an idea." Damian suddenly yelled so suddenly it caused Candice to jump slightly and Brittany to bolt upright.

For a moment she looked disorientated, before realising that Damian was tied to a chair. "What-"

"Hello there darling. I'm just hanging about, don't mind me." Damian said.

"He attacked while you were asleep." Candice said.

"You must be able to sleep through a storm." Damian said with a grin. "I mean with all the grunts and conversations, it was a hoot! A party! We should've let you join in."

Brittany shivered and looked to Candice. "Why did you tie him up?"

"Well, I don't know what to do to him. I considered just throwing him outside tied up, but someone would see him and assume someone would be here."

"We could always play I-spy." Damian said. "Did you know I used to play that with my dad all the time? I spy with my little eye, something beginning with B. Oh dad? Is that 'blood'? Yes, yours. How very spectacular! I was right!" Damian cackled, earning disconcerting looks from both Candice and Brittany.

"You know, I'm seriously considering killing him. He's clearly out of his mind."

"Wrong!" Damian put in. "I'm in my mind, not out."

Brittany ignored him. "It's still killing though... it's still murder."

"We could consider it assisted suicide." Damian said, his tongue flicking upwards. "I can die, you can be happy. I've always wondered what would be after death. Maybe constant white, or perhaps it'll be like a dream. Well, that's not possible, after all, the brain stops functioning."

"We should lead him away from here, put him on a clearing or something and wait for someone else to do the job." Candice said, crossing her arms.

"Hey look!" Damian said, nodding towards the window. "Is it a bird? A plane? Nope, my mistake. That's a grenade. How jolly!"

Indeed, the oval that was a grenade hit the floor and rolled under the bed.

There was silence as Candice and Brittany stared, before the grenade exploded.

**XXX**

_"He isn't right in the head Nick." _

_ "He is our son, Leila. Our son!" _

_ "He's no son of mine! Where would he have got that from? Not me, that's for certain!" _

_ "We just have to help him ourselves. What good are we as parents if we cannot care for our own son?" _

_ "You can. I... I will not have a part in that... that person." _

_ "Leila! Consider what you are saying! Please!" _

_ "I have considered it! It's time I left, Nick. Do what you want with Jeremy, but I want no part in it." _

_ A very young Jeremy Magruder overheard the conversation from behind the closed doors. He couldn't comprehend what was being said completely, though the whisper in his head talked about betrayal. The whisper was always right, Jeremy knew that much. It was right when it said grandma was going to die. It was right when it said his older sister would get chosen for the Hunger Games. So, why shouldn't it be right this time?_

_ 'They are traitors, Jeremy! Traitors to us! To you! You got to deal with th-'_

_ A sudden scream cut off Jeremy's thoughts, and the door burst open, revealing his father covered in blood. Jeremy looked past and saw his mother on the floor, not moving. Something in his head clicked. 'Let me free, Jeremy.' _

_Nick Magruder panted, before he caught sight of his young son. "Jeremy! What are you doing here?" _

_ "Who is Jeremy? I'm Damian." Damian said with wide eyes, which somehow looked sinister despite only being eight years old. _

_ Nick's own eyes widened. _

_ "I want to play a game dad. I want to play I-Spy." _

_ "Jeremy, ple-" _

_ "I-Spy with my little eye... something beginning with B!" Damian cackled, not realising that he had a knife in his hand. _

_ "Jeremy, put that-" Nick suddenly let off a horrifying scream as his own blood intermingled with his wives. _

_ "Do you give up?" Damian asked. "I was thinking blood, dad." _

**XXX**

"Goddamn." Jeremy groaned, opening his eyes and trying to get rid of the pounding of his head. The room was in ruins, the wall by the bed blown out and the ceiling collapsed. Jeremy found that the wire had snapped on the chair, which had actually broken from the explosion. He pulled himself to his feet, looking around. "Damien? What did you do?"

"You think I did this? Hah! Would've loved to, but no dice."

Jeremy frowned and bent down, pulling the trident which was scratched, but otherwise unharmed from the rubble.

"We oughta introduce ourselves, I think."

Jeremy shook his head. "No. I'm not letting you take over again. You follow MY directions, and I say we are getting out of here."

At that, Jeremy stepped out of the building and started running, completely missing the crouched figure of Ricardo in the bushes.

Ricardo watched as Jeremy disappeared into the bushes, shrugging. That was fine. He wanted to make sure that Jeremy would die by his hand. What better way to prove yourself than by killing arguably the strongest Tribute? At the moment, Ricardo ventured over to the ruins, looking for the hopeful corpses of Candice and Brittany.

"You thought I'd run away?"

Ricardo turned in surprise just as Damian tackled into him. The two crashed to the ground, where Damian got the upper hand on top.

"Too bad, sunshine!" Damien said with delight, the trident in his hands and pointing straight down at Ricardo.

"Damian!"

Damian growled. "Go away!"

"Stop killing!"

"Make me!" Damian said, standing up off of Ricardo. He suddenly let off a yell, clutching his head as his vision turned red. "Fu-ck... off!"

Damien clenched his teeth hard, before his face relaxed. Jeremy turned and started to run away, leaving Ricardo very much confused. After a few seconds, he shook it off and stood up, turning around only to spot a leg disappearing into the bushes, a slim, female leg.

Ricardo cursed and went to follow, but he tripped over the rubble accidently, landing face first on the remnants of the bed. Ricardo managed to get up, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Ricardo punched the rubble in anger, realising he had lost his chance. He started off in the direction he thought he saw the leg, intent on trying to find someone to kill.

XXX

Candice had done something she never thought she would in the games. She had actually thanked Jeremy Magruder. Since he attacked Ricardo, albeit briefly, Candice was able to take the chance to help Brittany away. Candice hadn't sustained many injuries, other than a few cuts and bruises, it was Brittany who was in a hard situation.

A large cut ran down her leg, apparently hurting so much she couldn't move. Brittany's left side of her face was also an ugly sheen of red from the explosion. Her left eye was shut, and they both suspected that she would be blind in that eye.

"Make me!" A yell was heard from where Damian and Ricardo were. "Fu-uck... off!"

"What's happening?" Brittany whispered as footsteps were heard.

Candice watched as Jeremy ran away, before suddenly diving back into the bushes as Ricardo turned around. Keeping a hand on Brittany's mouth, Candice slowed backed further into the bushes, her eyes wide.

There was the sound of some kind of stone being moved, before, "Damn! Damn! Damn!"

Then the footsteps grew closer.

Candice grit her teeth and watched with increasing nervousness as Ricardo walked through the bushes. She could see his legs, while his torso and head were hidden from sight. Ricardo looked around for a moment, before cursing and starting off further forward.

The two girls waited for a long ten minutes, before Candice sighed. "Looks like he is gone." Candice smiled towards Brittany as she stood up. "Stay here. I'll get our bags, see if any of our supplies are okay, and then patch you up."

Brittany nodded, gingerly touching the side of her face.


	31. Hour 28  8 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Read on!) **

Bertha was extremely happy she was clean again. Dirt? She hated it with a passion and even more so. Back at District 6, Bertha was teased for somehow being 'too clean'. Ridiculed for wearing white bodysuits to avoid bacteria and germs, not that they were that many considering the District was based on the manufacturing of pharmaceuticals and medicine. She kept her books and pencils in plastic baggies, vigorously washing them after ever use. Some people just didn't understand her.

Some thought that her cleanliness was a hereditary state, as her mother and father were exactly like her. Some even thought that she was a Capitol spy and kept her appearance most of the time by the use of the body suit. However, the 'illness' as some would put it stemmed from that fact that Bertha was completely opposite in her early childhood.

When it rained, Bertha always went out first, splashing in any and all mud, wiping her hands against any wall she could see a generally being a complete nuisance. She made her hair go in knots, dropped litter every which way, left her shoes untied, and was, to her parents, a nightmare.

Bertha's father couldn't stand it. One day when Bertha had come in covered in mud he hit her hard. He found he couldn't stop, even when Bertha was begging for mercy. He hit her and hit her. Despite watching this, Bertha's mother actually agreed with the actions. The only way for Bertha to understand would be to get the ideas of dirtiness and untidiness out of her head; by force, if necessary.

After that Bertha was too scared of injury, too scared of another vicious beating by her father to ever play in the mud, or do anything a normal child would do. If she brought in even a small patch of dirt into the house, she would be slapped in the face.

It was a hard life, yet Bertha lived it anyway. Pain... pain was the worst for her. In order to please her parents and in order not to experience the pain anymore, she became the person she was today.

Bertha mulled this over as she brushed her hair found in one of the houses. She liked making herself look good, as well. It wasn't often she thought back to her past, only when she was in a tough or stressful situation. Covered in Anita's blood definitely counted as a 'stressful' situation.

Being clean lifted a weight from Bertha's shoulders. Able to think clearly, Bertha was able to think about just what she should do in the Games. As she concluded just after Anita's death, she would start to play, start to act. Then she would go home as the winner of the 101st Hunger Games.

Bertha smiled to herself, placing the hairbrush on the table before tying her hair back with the elastic bands. Of all the weapons she could have been given, of all the possible things for her to use, and she was given a box of elastic bands? What was she going to do, flick it in someone's face? Never the less, Bertha placed the elastic bands back into her pack, where around half of her rations remained.

With that, Bertha threw her bag back over her shoulder and exited the house, stepping over Anita's body gingerly and walked down the path, at peace. Rather than be stressed out and crying, Bertha was now confident. She would definitely prove her chance of being in the top ten.

**XXX**

On the opposite side of the town, Craig was looking at what looked like an old school. It was two floors, with small classrooms if looking through the windows gave anything away. It was odd; he had missed this on his previous visit to the town. That would mean that it was possible someone was in there. Flicking his penknife out, Craig went in the double doors. The corridor was plain, other than a few faded marks of cello-tape. To the left and right were doors leading into small classrooms. It was as if they had left for the day, with the chairs on top of the tables and the floor clean. Both classrooms were mirror images of each other. Slowly Craig went through the other first floor rooms. An old cupboard with a broom and mop, toilets, a small library with faded books of long years past and a door which led out to a playground outside, along with a outdoor room with footballs and the likes for kids that age to play with.

"How long has this been here?" Craig found himself asking to no-one. After all, the Capitol hadn't used schools like this for a long time. Craig only saw pictures of this kind in old history books, before the Capitol was even formed. He went back inside and climbed the stairs. There were only two rooms here.

Craig turned into the first, which turned out to be an office, likely the head teachers. A desk and filing cabinets filled the otherwise drab room. Craig went out and into the last room.

It was a staff room, with a faded sofa and even a sink and desk-side. Cracked mugs stood upside down with a wooden shelf with faded textbooks.

"You actually came!"

Craig spun around in panic, his penknife raised high to see the starling appearance of the pink-clad Andrea. "Looks like the prey came for me." Craig said with a smile. "You'll be the second to die in Kayla's na-"

"No, you don't understand!" Andrea gushed, looking oddly happy. "I'm not here to play this silly game, and encounter all those icky bodies. Urgh."

Craig couldn't help but be interested. After all, these were Capitol's specifically chosen, were they not. "I thought... that you Capitol's came here deliberately for the Games."

"Oh, that's just my little act. I don't want to be going around killing people. It's just so much of a icky thing to do, don't you agree!" Andrea let off a high-pitched laugh, hugging her bear, Eliza, close. "I'm here for you Craigy-baby!"

Craig blinked, confused. He took a step back. "Excuse me."

"You're not like the others, you're not ugly. You and me, we're beautiful!" Andrea said, stepping forward causing Craig to back away again. "You're so handsome, with your chin, and those eyes, mmm... it makes me feel so..." Andrea let off a small laugh. "... naughty..."

"Look, stop trying to play with my mind!" Craig exclaimed, shaking his head. "You are going to die here! For Ka-"

"Kayla this, Kayla that." Andrea huffed. "Kayla can turn in her non-existent grave as far as I'm concerned. You see, Craigy, you can forget ALL about her."

"Don't you da-"

Craig was cut off as Andrea suddenly lunged forward and locked her lips around his own. Craig stumbled back, trying to push Andrea off but she was surprisingly strong. Her tongue pushed through his lips, before Andrea pushed him down onto the sofa.

Craig tried to protest, but his male instincts were taking over. '_No... Kayla... she's the person I love...'_

Andrea boldly ripped his shirt off, before pulling down the straps of her dress, all the while kissing Craig.

Craig's thoughts clouded over. '_Kayla... Kay...'_

When Andrea fumbled with his zipper, Craig succumbed to the extreme advances and locked himself in the embrace of Andrea.


	32. Hour 29 8 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review. Right, I've realised a somewhat large mistake surrounding previous Tributes Amanda Rowell and Anita Wrangle. I talked about Amanda being from District 9 originally, thought then I explained in more detail Anita being from District 9. So, for the sake of understanding, Amanda was actually in District 8. Slightly late to point this out, but nevertheless it's pointed out. Anywho, a slight risk with the ending of this chapter, but I'm known for my risks. Read on!)**

"It's actually quite nice here..." Brittany smiled as she sat in the grassy area near the explosion.

"I suppose." Candice muttered, wrapping the last bandage around Brittany's leg. She had used the remainder of her water to clean the blood off and cool down the side of Brittany's face, then she had wrapped bandages around her face also, so as not to agitate the burns any more than the bandages did already. Brittany now had use on only one eye and leg, yet she was in somewhat bright spirits.

"Come on, what's wrong?" Brittany asked, pulling her fingers through her hair.

"What's wrong?" Candice exclaimed with wide eyes, before taking a deep breath. "Sorry. It's just... we were very almost killed, you more than me. How can you... be this happy with the situation?"

Brittany shrugged. "I just, well, thinking on the bright side of things. We're alive, are we not? Both Damien and Ricardo are gone. We are alone. I see no reason to dwell in misery."

"I wish I had your optimism." Candice murmured. "All I know is that your injured, we've lost everything except for my vest and the rations. The shotgun was destroyed in the blast, along with the spear. This time tomorrow both of us are likely to be dead."

"Then what are you suggesting?" Brittany asked lowly, placing a hand on Candice's thigh in a friendly manner.

Candice shook her head. "I don't know... I just... we could kill ourselves. Kill the others. We could play this game, and win it, and earn the chance to survive. That would work, we could-"

"Candice!" Brittany snapped, causing Candice to look up from her reverie. "Don't. Just... just don't. Don't let the Game overcome you. You got to keep your head on and not give up. That is exactly what you are doing, you're giving up."

Candice sighed and let off a small smile. "Yeah... yeah, I am. Sorry 'bout that. It's good to have a companion."

Brittany stared at Candice for a second before, "What do you mean by that? You make it sound as if it's not just the games."

"Spot on. It's not just the games. All my life I've been very... independent, if you wish. I've always been the odd one out. My mother loved me, true, but I just couldn't see through her ideals. My father..." Candice trailed off, wiping her eyes. Brittany was surprised to see a tear fall from Candice's cheek. "I'm not... not ready to talk about that just yet."

"Did he... do anything bad to you?" Brittany asked, afraid of an outburst.

Candice shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. He was a role model, he was... perfect. Look, Brittany, I consider you an ally in these games, very possibly a friend. However... I think I need to trust you more to tell you. It's things I didn't tell to anyone. Not even my mother." Candice suddenly laughed.

"What is it?" Brittany asked.

"I just realised. If I told you, then I'd be telling the whole goddamn Capitol and the Districts." Candice stroked her chin, musing. "Perhaps... perhaps it'll do me good in the end. Let it off my chest. After all, my dad can't exactly tell me not to now..." Candice looked up once more. "Tell you what. I'm going to get some sleep. Wake me up in around three to four hours, unless something important happens. When I do wake up, and we're safe, I'll tell you all about it."

**XXX**

"_His dad killed his mum, and he killed his dad. I mean, that's one fucked up family, right?" A 16 year old boy scoffed, leaning against one of the factories sides of District 9. _

_ "Yeah." Laughed a second boy. "God knows what was going through their minds. He's just a freak with no friends."_

_ "Deserves it too, for being a damn murderer." The first boy laughed. _

_ Around the corner was his back leant against the wall, Jeremy Magruder, now 15, held a hand over his mouth. '_Why do people think like that? What did I ever do?' _Jeremy thought to himself. '_I keep telling them, it was the voices... not me! Not me!'

_ After the events with his parents, Jeremy was sent to the medical building to get tested for mental illness. They all agreed on the fact that it was multiple-personality disorder. Jeremy was the nice one, who usually tried to be calm. Damien was the bad one, the murdering one. However, during the course of their survey, they found a third personality within Jeremy Magruder. He only showed it once during the examination. _

_ They found Jeremy named the voice Alexander, and Alexander was the image of a happy ignorant boy, unaware of the murder he had committed. It was as if Alexander was good, Jeremy was in the middle and Damien was evil. _

_ Alexander only showed himself after an intense pressuring about feelings of killing his parents. He went into peaceful bliss, claiming his parents were still alive and cooking. Quickly though, Jeremy came back, showing no signs of Alexander. _

_ It was by the factories, that the voice of Alexander was niggling through his head. Jeremy grit his teeth. All Alexander was trying to do was fool him with false memories. _

_ "Oh hey, look, it's the freak." _

_ Jeremy looked up to find the two boys staring at him. _

_ "How you feeling murderer. What you doing eavesdropping on us, huh?" The first boy stepped forward. "What are you going to do to us? We're older than you." _

_ '_Dad said not to talk to strangers' _Alexander said in Jeremy's head. '_Dad said to always go away if strangers came near'

_ "Shut it." Damien growled out loud, before looking to the two confused boys. "You ask what I am going to do to you. Perhaps I'll rip out your intestines and strangle you with 'em, or perhaps I'll pluck out your eyeballs. Trust me, boys, there is a number of fun things I can do..." _

_**XXX**_

"STOP IT!" Jeremy roared, smashing his forehead against a tree with enough force to cause a cut on his head. "Stop it! Stop making me think of that! Stop making me think of the memories! I've had enough, enough, ENOUGH!" Jeremy panted, sliding down the tree so he was sitting with his back against the bark. "Stop it..." Jeremy muttered, clamping his hands around his ears.

Ever since the start of the Hunger Games, Damien had taken over. He had been the boss, commanding Jeremy on what to do. Jeremy could do nothing but obey. After all, when you got the same body what are you going to do.

However, Jeremy was aware of what was happening, aware of the horrible things he had done to people like Sharon...

Damien didn't care though. He always wanted blood, always wanted to have 'a bit of fun'. Jeremy had had enough. He wouldn't let Damien take over, he wouldn't let himself become more of a murderer than he already was.

'_What's wrong? Can't handle the pressure?'_

Jeremy slammed his head backwards in the tree. "Shut up!"

'_Mother and Father. Loving parents, weren't they. We were only following father's example, weren't we? The example that anyone we hate, we kill. And we hate everyone here. With their easy lives and loving parents... we hate all of them, don't we?'_

Jeremy stood up and punched the tree, splitting his knuckle this time. "Why would I hate them? They haven't done anything to me!"

'_Stop being a fool. It's what they will do. Look at that Candice babe. She was prepared to kill us, but only stopped because of little miss string. See, that's the kind of stuff we have to combat against. If we have a bit of fun, what's so wrong with that?'_

Jeremy grimaced and started to run through the forest, trying not to listen to Damien.

_'You can't ignore yourself. We are murderers together, my friend. Together we will win. Together!'_

Jeremy let out a pained cry and burst through the bushes, tumbling to the ground until he was on his knees. He panted and looked up. Jeremy's eyes met with a now deceased Jackal. The Capitol Tribute's eyes were happy while there was a small smile on his face. The stabbing on his stomach struck something far in the back of Jeremy's mind, something which hadn't happened since the examination from those doctor's.

Jackal's image faded and turned into one of a female. Black hair cascaded over a face, stab wounds in the stomach from the ripped dress.

"Mommy? Mommy!" Alexander crawled towards Jackal in his disillusioned state and hugged him close. "I knew you weren't dead! I knew it! You came back to me!" Alexander happily grinned. "Daddy did a bad thing, mommy. He did! He did! I watched him steal some money!"

Alexander remained hunched over Jackal's body in the form of his mother, muttering a lot of stories about his childhood and all the things his mother missed while she 'was away.'


	33. Hour 30  8 Tributes Remaining

_**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review. I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope ya'll do too.) **_

"_Hello guys and gals. I'm Ryder, and here's the first announcement of the day. First off though, good job on getting this far, congratulations. A lot of the people in the back suspected you'd kill each other easily within a day with the inclusions of guns, but thankfully you're not all mass murderers. Anyway... it's been a nice, peaceful 6 hours with only a few deaths. First up was Boy #3 Raymond Violette who suffered numerous injuries. Not a nice way to go at all and adding insult to injury he just lost out on the final ten. Next was the first Capitol to go down, none other than Boy #13 Drago, otherwise known as Jackal. Lastly Anita Rangle, Girl #8, fell to the Games. So, that takes us to only eight remaining. Good luck Tributes." _

To the ears of Craig Voss, Ryder was ignored. Craig was naked along with Andrea, both tucked up on the sofa.

"See..." Andrea said. "I knew we would have a good time."

"Yeah..." Craig nodded. The two of them had been going at it for the last hour, on and off. Fifteen minutes, then a ten minute break, then at it again. Craig was exhausted, covered in sweat while Andrea wasn't effected as much, though her face showed delight. "That was... pure brilliance."

"Of course." Andrea pouted. "Were you expecting anything less?"

"Nuh-uh. No way." Craig stroked a hand through the back of Andrea's hair. "I was expecting that completely, and you just lived up to my expectations."

"I'm glad." Andrea stood up and pulled on her underwear. "Though as much as I want to, we'll have to do something about the other Tributes if we want to live together. I can see it now, living together in a giant mansion, the first ever lovers to win the games! Married on the beach... oh, why should only one win? We'll be able to win together for sure. Then I could be Andrea Voss... oh my, it'll be so romantic!"

"Can you fight?" Craig asked, zipping up his trousers. "I mean, both of us are going to have to fight if we want to survive."

"Can I fight? Are you joking?" Andrea smiled. "I a mean lean fighting machine when I want to be Craigy-Baby."

"Good." Craig said, reaching for his T-shirt when his eyes latched onto the penknife lying on the table side.

"_I'm fine, Craig." _

Craig blinked, trying to figure out what was going through his mind, trying to figure out who the voice belonged too.

"_Our own little slice of paradise, huh." _

"Craig? Are you all right?" Andrea asked, but her voice fell on deaf ears.

"_I'm glad you're here Craig." _

Craig stood up, stumbling over to the table and grabbing the pen knife.

"_Ever heard of love at first sight?" _

"Kayla..." Craig muttered, holding Kayla's assigned weapon in his hand.

"Oh no, Craigy. You're not talking about _her_ again, are you?" Andrea pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. She was now in her dress, having put in on while Craig was thinking.

"_Me, you, the beach and the sun. Perfect." _

"What am I...?" Craig muttered to himself.

"_Craig... I-I just want to go..." _

"I... I'm a goddamn traitor..." Craig whispered.

"What was that darling?" Andrea asked, cocking her head. "You're acting weird."

"No... Not me..." Craig suddenly whipped around, fury on his face. "You! You fucking little bitch! You whore! You made me betray Kayla! You made me forget about her! My eternal love for her!"

"What are you doing Craig?" Andrea backed away as Craig approached, penknife in your hand. "Kayla never loved you. She was just milking love for the cameras for all it was worth."

"Shut up! Don't talk about her like that! Don't you dare!" Craig yelled, not caring how loud he was. "I was going to win in her name... I will still win in her name!"

"You little..." Andrea growled. "I love you! I gave myself to you! This is how you treat me? Kayla's 'love' for you was false, I'm the real deal! What more could you want, a personality, figure and listens to whatever you say."

"You're the fake one here." Craig stomped towards Andrea. "You manipulative-"

"How dare you call me fake! You are the love of my life! From the moment I saw you on that screen, I knew, I goddamn knew that you were the one for me! I was going to die for you, I was going to let you win because I love you Craig! I know two won't win, but you can... and-and I can live on through you..."

"You're right..." Craig whispered, Causing Andrea to smile.

"I knew-"

"You will die for me." With that, Craig lunged forward with the penknife blade out.

Andrea scrambled to the side, only receiving a cut to her cheek. "Craig! Please, I am yours! Just forget about Kayla, do what you will with me! Beat me, rape me, whatever, I'll like it and plead for it! I am yours, Craigy, yours! I'll do whatever you wish!"

"Just die!" Craig exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing Andrea around the throat. She started squirming, wriggling around his grip.

"You can do this all you like, Craig! I don't mind bruises, really, I don't." Andrea pleaded, tears in her eyes. "Please, I love you!"

"Stop... moving!" Craig pushed Andrea down hard onto the table-top causing her to let out a gasp of pain. Craig raised the penknife above her throat. "I hope you go to hell you conniving bitch!" He thrust the knife down, but at the last second Andrea managed to roll out of the way. Instead of hitting flesh, the knife went straight into the chest of Andrea's teddy bear.

"ELIZA!" Andrea suddenly screamed, loud enough to cause Craig to stumble backwards in surprise. Andrea charged at him, face filled with indescribable anger. Before Craig could act, Andrea tackled him to the floor, the penknife spinning out of his grasp. "You bastard! How dare you!" Andrea started scratching at his face, drawing thin red lines all across. Craig moaned in pain, pushing Andrea off of him and backing away, clutching his face.

"Damn... it's only a bear..."

"She's not a bear! How dare you even suggest that!" Andrea screamed, tears still flowing down her eyes.

**XXX**

_"Hehe, Andrea, caught you!" _

_ Andrea grinned as her sister poked her on the top of the head from the bin she was hiding in. Both were small, around 10 years of age. _

_ "You were always good at this." Andrea pouted. _

_ "I know! I'm a master of hide and seek." _

_ "Says you, Eliza. One day I'll hide out from you." _

_ Eliza stuck her tongue out, a bear hanging from a little bracelet on her arm. "You can't beat me in anything." _

_ "I can beat you in a race! I'll race you home." Andrea challenged, immediately running across the smooth and clean Capitol Street. _

_ "No way!" Eliza quickly followed, soon getting to Andrea's side. "See! I'm just as fast as-" _

_ The loud horn caught both girls' off guard. Andrea managed to stop as a sleek bright purple vehicle approached. "Eliza!" _

_ Andrea was too late, as the vehicle crashed in the back of her spine. Eliza's head also whipped back, the small girl's neck whiplashing with enough force to break. Eliza was dead before she hit the ground._

_ Andrea rushed over as blood started leaking over the floor. "Eliza? Eliza? No, no, no, Eliza!" Andrea hand caught on something soft and wet, as it made contact with Eliza's bear. _

**XXX**

"My Eliza will live on!" Andrea growled, throwing her weight at Craig. "You're just like the driver! You're running away from me! I loved you and you're running away!"

"How am I like the driver?" Craig demanded as Andrea tackled into him. "I'm nothing like the Capitol scum."

"That driver loved me! Loved Eliza too! When daddy saw us on the street, he ran away from us and left us! Left Eliza and me all alone... he could have saved her life! He could have!" Andrea swiped her nails across Craig's eye, causing it to actually pop like a small balloon.

Craig screamed, throwing Andrea off him and clutching his eye in pain.

"Why are you running away from me... why do the people I love always run away!" Andrea exclaimed, her voice hoarse as tears streamed down her face in a river. "Daddy... you... I loved you both and you both are trying to run away from the love I gave them... you attacked my Eliza as well!"

"You are one twisted little bitch." Craig spat, panting as he held his eye. "I don't love you at all. Just because you tempted me... haha, no way little bitch. Only person I love is Kayla."

"WHY! WHY AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" Andrea screamed as loud as she could, suddenly reaching down and grabbing the knife. "WHY! WHY!"

Craig tried to raise his hands in an attempt to block the knife, but it just stabbed through his palms. Craig yelled out in pain once again as the knife was pulled from his hands.

_"Our own little slice of paradise..." _

Craig tried to raise his hands again, but couldn't as the knife stabbed into his shoulder. Andrea was too enraged to stop, hardly aware of what she was doing.

"Kay...la..." Craig muttered as the blade stabbed into his neck. Andrea pulled it out harshly, ripping the wound open even more.

"_...paradise..." _

"I... wanted..." The blade entered Craig's right lung as speech left him. '_...t-to win...'_ The blade just missed his heart, though cut important arteries. '_For... you..'_

The final stabbing hit Craig in his heart. Andrea pulled back as her front and face were covered in blood. Leaving the knife in Craig's bare chest, she stumbled back and hugged herself close.

"You tried to run away..." Andrea gulped. "You did... I watched you..." Andrea looked around and grabbed Eliza, pulling her close. "I told him... that I loved him Eliza. I c-confessed, I did, I really did... I-I-I think I k-killed him..."

Craig Voss, Boy #4 was indeed dead, becoming the eighth person to fall.

"I... killed the person I l-l-loved!" Andrea wailed, throwing her head between her legs and crying hysterically while clutching Eliza close to her chest.


	34. Hour 31  7 Tributes Remaining

"_You listen to me, and you listen to be true, okay? You are not to run away like that again!"_

_ "What do you care? You're too mixed up in politics and 'leading the country' to care for your daughter. You've missed every single one of my birthdays! You've just got a babysitter to buy me a cake and that was it." _

_ "Please." President Raven placed a finger on the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Stop insulting me like that." _

_ "Insulting!" Gretchen scoffed, shaking her head. "I'm only telling the truth father. I know you politic types don't like telling the truth, or even accepting the truth, but this time you have to listen to me." _

_ "Gretchen you are getting me annoyed." Raven said. _

_ "Oh am I? What are you going to do?" _

_ "Your attitude is out of place and quite frankly disgusting, Gretchen." Raven said, standing up from the ornate seat. Though Raven was fairly young at 32 in terms of being the president, Raven still liked the ornate and antiques which made up the mansion he lived in. He much preferred old fashioned paintings and military uniforms from the past. That was one of the reasons he issued the new Battle Royale Act. "You ask me what I can do. I am the President of Panem. I will be able to send you to any District I so please, I can cut out your tongue, and I can even execute you." _

_ "See?" Gretchen shook her head in disbelief. "What sort of father says that? You're willing to cut out my tongue, to transfer me somewhere else and to kill me? If you want my respect you're going to have to do better than that." _

_ "It's not about respect Gretchen." Raven growled. "I do not have the time to care for you. I have so many documents, so many issues I need to address. I have ideals, I have dreams, I need to act upon these and let the whole of Panem know! I want change from that foolish Snow, and you are not helping. I am fine with you not respecting me, but you are just my daughter. I cannot just stop my business for you." _

_ "It's all about the business, is that it? Fine. Let's talk business." Gretchen stood up straight, glaring at her father. "I'm 17. I am well educated in politics, though I don't particularly like them. At the age of 20 I could, in theory, stand for president. I have the intelligence and the stubbornness to see it through. I can overthrow you and in turn get the respect I deserve!" _

_ "You cannot do that, I am your father-" _

_ Gretchen exclaimed back. "That's it... you just don't want to lose your position. The only reason I want you to stop being president is so you have time for me! Do you realise just how hard it is to grow up on your own? To learn to talk and walk from a stupid teacher and not from the parents? Teenage girls like me should be interested in boys, and clothes, and all these things but I've grown up without the influence of a parent who would introduce these to me. Instead I'm a lonely, miserable kid looking for the respect of her father, who quite frankly doesn't even deserve respect himself." _

_ "Gretchen-" _

_ "How can I earn you respect, dad? How? How can I make you respect me, to love me, to be a goddamn parent to me? What can I do?" _

_ "Please, stop this." _

_ "No. Somewhere deep in your black heart must exist some kind of acceptance of me. I want to draw it out and embrace it. Will I have to become President to earn your respect, huh? Or should I start a revolution? Perhaps I should send details of the Capitol's weakness to the other Districts. If I had the guts to do that, would I gain your respect?" _

_ "You are speaking of treachery and of betraying your country. Please silence yourself." _

_ "Perhaps... perhaps the only thing which can make you see the light is if you see my very life in danger." Gretchen suddenly smiled to herself. "That's it. I know that you're planning on sending Capitol Tributes in these new games. I'm going to get in if it's the last thing I do." _

**XXX**

Gretchen slowly opened her eyes. Sure, entering the Hunger Games was extreme, but what else could she physically do? No other option would allow President Raven to see the-

A sudden pop echoed through the air. Moments later there was a sudden pain in Gretchen's leg. She gasped in pain and dropped out of the tree, landing awkwardly on her leg and collapsing to the floor. She sat up and quickly looked to her leg to see what looked like a bullet hole in her leg. Gretchen panted and looked to the side, to see Bertha Iglesias approaching.

'_Shit... I let my guard down.'_ Gretchen thought to herself as she struggled to one foot.

Bertha walked slowly over and placed the barrel of the pistol over Gretchen heart. Gretchen just smiled.

"Damn. That's what I get for reminiscing. Good on you, though." Gretchen said, before she slowly held her arms out wide. "Come on then. Shoot me. End it right now."

Bertha looked slightly confused, but nevertheless her finger twitched though didn't actually press the trigger.

"Looks like it's gonna rain..." Gretchen said, looking up.

"What!" Bertha glanced upwards in surprise towards the clear sky, worried about getting wet. Gretchen took the advantage and quickly smacked the pistol from Bertha's grasp and planted her knee into Bertha's gut. Bertha gasped in pain and fell back.

"Cannot believe that worked..." Gretchen shook her head, reaching up to the tree and grabbing her sword, before limping over to Bertha. "Should have shot me when you had the chance girl. You're obsession with being clean just got you killed."

"Heh..." Bertha just shook her head. "I won't be killed!"

"You believe that." Gretchen said, before swiping to sword cleanly across Bertha's neck. Bertha's eyes widened in surprise as blood spurted outwards.

'_So much blood...'_

Gretchen watched as Bertha's eyes rolled into the back of her head and her breathing stopped along with the blood flow. The Capitol Tribute merely shook her head and started walking away.


	35. Hour 32  6 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review. Thought I'd let you know, we're reaching the end. Perhaps two or three chapters left? Who knows... read on! **

Candice let out a large yawn as she stretched and woke up. Brushing some hair out of her eyes, she looked over to Brittany who was sitting with her leg still stretched out comfortably.

"Awake already?" Brittany questioned. "Can't have been more than three hours."

"Guess being in a death game gives you bad nightmares." Candice said with a grin.

"You had bad nightmares?"

"Nah. Just saying is all." Candice stifled another yawn and leant back. "Do you reckon any more have died?"

"I heard a gunshot a while ago." Brittany answered. "Otherwise, not really. For all we know it could only be us two."

"Heh..." Candice smiled, before suddenly burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Brittany looked slightly alarmed.

"It's just that... that phrase... it brings back memories."

"Memories?"

Candice smile grew broader. "Yeah... good memories..."

**XXX**

_** "**__For all we know it could only be us two." _

_ Candice, 13, giggled despite herself. She looked over to her father who was crouched next to her. Kris Laboy was best described as ruggedly handsome. His jaw was covered in stubble and his hair hung wild over his head, yet his gleaming eyes gave away intelligence, experience and charm. His hands were rugged and tough from working the ropes on the boats, while his arms bulged from years of work. _

_ "Ssh, ssh..." Kris put a finger on Candice's lips. "You might attract monsters." _

_ "Monsters?" Candice whispered back. "I thought you said it was only us two." _

_ "Ahh, only us two _humans,_ who knows what lies out there in the wilderness. Perhaps the Jelly Bear, who's sweet smell attracts humans only for him to absorb their very flesh. Or maybe the Tickle Wolf. The first minute it's funny, the next you're pleading for mercy and the next... let's say you will never see the light of day." Kris grinned a bright white smile. "However... the most deadly and most intriguing monster of them all is out to kill me personally. The fearsome and unrivalled Ten-Eyed Carp. You see, I went out to sea a while back and caught myself a lovely fish. It turned out this fish was the baby of this Carp, and from that day on all ten eyes and sharp teeth were intent on killing me."_

_ Candice looked positively scared. _

_ "Don't be scared Can-Can." Kris grinned."Daddy's here to save you from the nasty monsters. I'll wrestle the carp to the ground, I'll eat the very jelly of the jelly bear, and more importantly... I'll tickle the wolf until it pleads for mercy... much... like... you!" Kris lunged at Candice and started tickling her, causing Candice to erupt into laughter and roll around the floor, pleading for mercy. _

**XXX**

You're dad sounds like a pretty cool guy." Brittany said, smiling despite herself.

"Huh? 'Pretty cool'? That's an understatement. He was the best man you could ever hope for. Funny to cheer you up, serious to protect you... caring like any father should. I loved him... I still do. I was his Can-Can, it was a world I could escape to, away from my mother and away from the 'real world." Candice explained.

"But why were your dad and mum divorced?"

"Oh, they were together. Just my dad never agreed to sign the divorce terms. My mother thought he was a 'bad influence' on me. Make me grow up to be, god forbid, a fisherman." Candice rolled her eyes. "That was my mother. The males should do the hunting and the women do the cleaning. She wanted to make me clean this, clean that, scrub the floor, wash the windows, it got on my damn nerves!"

"You speak as if... he's gone..." Brittany said carefully.

Candice frowned. "I promised I'd tell you. So I will. You see, me and my dad had been arranging secretly a weekend on his boat. I had persuaded my mother that I was sleeping over a friend's house for the weekend, and it was all set out. We were ready in the morning..."

**XXX**

"_Look at that sea... so calm... so mysterious..." Kris sighed and patted Candice on the head, causing her to smile. "This'll be an amazing weekend if I do say so myself." _

"_Yep!" Candice agreed. _

_ "Up you go." Kris grunted as he lifted Candice up onto the fishing boat. It was a typical boat, with crane's to use nets at the back, one room under deck which would be the bedrooms and the cabin up top. It was called: The Fortuna._

_ "There he is! There's the man who kidnapped my daughter!" _

_ "Stay still honey." Kris whispered to Candice, pushing her carefully down, before he slowly turned around. He was faced with three machine guns armed by Peacekeepers, with Angela, his wife, behind them pointing a finger. _

**XXX**

"This was in the last years of President Snow's leadership." Candice said, rubbing her eyes. "He had placed much more security on the main sources of income, District 4 being one of them. The perimeter of the District was surrounded by electric fences, there were guard towers... it was crazy. Anyway, my dad-"

"You don't have to continue." Brittany said softly. "If it hurts, you don't have to explain."

"No... I-I want to. It feels good to let someone know. Hell, let the whole of the Capitol know. In fact, I'm hoping my mother is watching right now back home."

**XXX**

_** "**__What is this, Angela? Kris asked. _

_ "Put your hands up!" One of the Peacekeeper's said, stomping over and hitting Kris in the chest with the butt of his rifle. "You two, search the boat for the child." _

_ "Why?" Kris questioned, moving his hands above his head. "You'll find her on the deck, likely feeling betrayed that her mother is doing this. We were going on a weekend out is all."_

_ "Do you know this man, ma'am?" The keeper asked, turning to Angela._

_ "A one night stand. If you ask me, he just wants revenge and have the child he was never there for!" _

_ "I see." Kris nodded calmly. _

_ "We found black-market weapons and plans to disrupt the Capitol below deck..." _

_ "What?" The Peacekeeper exclaimed at the same time as Kris. "Bring them here now." _

_ As the other Peacekeeper approached, Kris looked over to Angela and saw her smirking. He closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "I'm sorry Candice..." _

_ "No doubt about it." The Peacekeeper said. "You're name is on these documents, as well as other info pertaining to this ship and your home. There is no doubt of ill intent towards the Capitol. As decreed by the Head-Peacekeeper Grey Kayhorn, the punishment for treason is on-the-spot execution." _

_ "Dad!" Candice exclaimed, trying to run towards her father. However the last Peacekeeper was holding her back. "That's a lie! Dad would never... he wouldn't..." _

_ "Be quiet Candice." Kris said softly, yet loud enough to cause Candice to stop speaking._

_ "Any last words Kris Leboy?" _

_ "Yes. If I may please address my daughter. Candice, please realize that what happened here today happened for a reason. Don't let that same reason cause you to make bad decisions." _

_ With that, Candice watched with teary eyes as the trigger of the gun was pressed. _

_**XXX**_

__"My god..." Brittany whispered.

"My dad..." Candice sniffed, wiping her eyes again. "My dad died because he was framed by my mother. I saw her smile, I saw her realize that she had made this happen. She was glad as well! That's why I hate her. She didn't show any regret, or sadness, only happiness that she had caused the death of the most important man in my life! The 'reason' my dad was talking about was revenge. My mother had her 'revenge' from her foolish notion that he kidnapped me... he didn't want me to make the same mistake. I upheld his wish. I was going to go into the Games anyway. I was going to win, not for revenge, but for justice. I was going to place my mother in prison and make her realize the errors of her ways. Because that is the right thing to do for everyone, not because she killed my dad."

"Wow..." Brittany whispered. "You said 'was' though? You were going to win?"

"Aye... my father was my only friend. After his death I couldn't bring myself to trust anyone, lest they die for some godforsaken reason. Funny though... on the likely fields of my death I found an unlikely friend. Brittany... I don't know why, and I cannot explain... but you made me feel better inside. You are my friend... and I couldn't have asked for anymore. Now it seems I don't want to win if you live."

It was then that a sharp piece of glass was stabbed straight into the side of Brittany's neck. Blood immediately started spurting in torrents as Candice looked on dumbly.

"Finally found you. Touching story and all. But I'm afraid that you are going to die here." Ricardo AKA Boy #14 smirked. "Glad someone smashed a glass bottle around here."

Candice blinked as Ricardo roughly shoved Brittany to the side. "Brittany...?"

Brittany didn't respond. Her eyes were already dim and glazed over.

"No... no this isn't right... why... my friend... I-I... I thought that I could make another friend... I thought..." Candice looked completely shocked, her smooth skin pale. All her emotions seemed to leave her. "We talked... w-we laughed... and... she's... gone?" Candice's chest started rising and falling more rapidly. "She's... gone? She's gone!"

Ricardo sensed something bad was approaching and stepped back. That wasn't enough to prevent Candice from tackling him to the ground. She was now too enraged for words, tears falling down her cheeks and her hair all over the place.

Ricardo raised his only arm to defend his face, but Candice had picked up the already bloody glass shard (Which once belonged to the bottle of Marvin Melancon) and stabbed it hard into Ricardo's arm. Ricardo screamed in pain as the rough glass cut through skin and muscle.

"You fucking bitch..." Ricardo growled but Candice was slashing fast and wild. Not stabbing into him, but slashing deep wounds across his chest, stomach and arm. Soon blood drenched both his and Candice's chests as she continued to cut him in a flurry.

'_Stop that!'_ Ricardo found himself saying, though his voice didn't come out. '_This isn't right. I am meant to prove that I can be in the military without an arm. Why can't I defend? I should be able to... I should...'_

Ricardo screamed loudly as the glass cut from left ear down to the right side of his lip, so deep it scratched to bone. Another slash across the face went over both his eyes, blinding him.

_'No... I'm meant to prove myself... prove that I can use one arm to achieve goals... to achieve military perfection... I was in the military! That damn bomb blew my arm off and they sent me home! I could still fight! I could still shoot! Damn them to goddamn he-" _

The next slash entered his throat and severed practically every important vein and artery. The glass snapped in half as it sliced through, yet Candice didn't stop.

Even after the life had faded from Ricardo and even as her palms cut open from the glass, Candice continuing slashing and slashing until she was out of breath.

Finally, covered in a layer of crimson blood, Candice stopped. Breathing hard, she dropped the glass and backed away with wide eyes. It seemed she couldn't draw her gaze away from Ricardo's corpse, but in the end she managed to turn away. Straight into the death gaze of Brittany. Candice let out a moan of sadness and pain, falling to her knees and letting tears mix with her blood as pure misery engulfed her.

**(I think this was one of my best chapters. I enjoyed it thoroughly. **

**With that, please give a hand for our four finalists – Candice Laboy, Andrea, Gretchen and lsat but not least, Damien/Alexander/Jeremy Magruder! Oh... I'm excited! Who will win? Will Candice perform Justice, will Andrea and Eliza rise up to the top, or will Gretchen finally earn the respect of her father? Finally, can Jeremy prove to be the top dog and top boy in the competition? Each has a reason, each has a history, and each has an equal chance to win. **

**With that, till next time! **


	36. Hour 33  4 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival Jones for the review. Yes, it's a short and 'filler-ish' chapter, but that will be made up by hopefully and long chapter next time (Which will happen to be the last hour + Finale) with that, read on!) **

"...and then I was selected for the Hunger Games. Damien is so mean to me, what should I do mommy?" Alexander asked as he knelt next to Jackal's body. For the last number of hours he had been relaying everything about his life since his mother had died. "I-I don't know... do I die? Give up? Fight? I need advice mommy..."

Alexander suddenly recoiled as a haze of red washed over his vision. He let out a gasp and clutched his eyes, trying to get rid of the haze. The red haze was a sign of trouble and more importantly a sign of Damien.

Alexander's back hit a tree as he tried to rid the haze. "Go away! Away!" Alexander swung around the tree and tripped over a root, going face first into a bush.

Jeremy breathed hard, the mud digging between his fingers. Slowly, he stood up but then fell back as the red haze covered his vision once again. "No! No no no!" Jeremy cursed, throwing himself at the bark in an attempt to beat the haze from his vision. "I-I don't want to play! I don't want to play, I don't... I do not!"

Jeremy let out a scream and smashed his head against the bark, but unlike last time the red haze stared there.

'_You killed them all.'_

"SHUT UP!" Jeremy bashed his head against the tree once more.

'_You are a killer. Nothing more nothing less.'_

Jeremy backed away with a groan and charged at the tree. His head bounced off and he fell backwards to the floor.

'_Let me be the one to win...'_

His eyes stared upwards, before he swiped a finger across the increasing blood from the cut in his head. He stared at the blood for a moment, before letting a giant grin form across his face.

Damien Magruder stood up and sucked his finger, consuming the blood before letting out a bark of laughter. "Let's go to town!"

**XXX**

Andrea clutched Eliza close to her chest as she stared at Craig's corpse. After a bout of crying, she had placed his body on the sofa and covered it with some rags she found in one of the cupboards.

"I-I'm sorry..." Andrea sniffed. "Eliza agrees with me. We are going to win. Uh-huh, that's the plan Craigy-baby. We'll do it for you, despite betraying us. You're wrong in the mind, aren't you? That's the problem..." Andrea giggled. "Kayla was a parasite invading your mind. I'm glad you are at peace."

Andrea turned around and picked up the penknife from the table, and then reached for the grenade on the floor. She slipped the grenade into her newly packed bag and put it over her shoulder.

"You'll stay with me Craigy, won't you? In spirit. You can watch and be happy for me. Be happy for Eliza too. You're my guardian angel." Andrea Lawson nodded to herself as if reassuring herself, before walking out of the door and walking down the stairs with Eliza still clutched to her chest. "Let's go."

**XXX**

Gretchen was feeling slightly exhausted, despite having relaxed for a while. Now in the town, Gretchen was looking slightly pale from the bullet wound in her leg. Blood still showed through the bandages she had tied around it. However she merely grit her teeth and continued on.

Killing Bertha definitely had an advantage. Not only was it taking out a competitor, but she acquired a new weapon in the form of a pistol. While there were only four bullets, she'd make sure she hit the mark.

With sword and pistol in hand, Gretchen lent against a wall, placing the pistol on the floor and took a deep breath. She could feel something in the air, as if something was going to happen very soon. Gretchen was a very down-to-earth kind of girl, not believing in things other than hard facts. Still she shivered, unable to think otherwise.

"You'll respect me dad." Gretchen said out loud, knowing the sensitive microphones would pick her up. "You'll respect me for the daughter I am. You should know already. I am not a push over." Gretchen smiled, before cutting open her palm with the sword. She showed the bloody palm to one of the camera high on a post. "See this? I swear on my blood that I'll win. This will be the last injury I get as well." Gretchen closed her fist, causing blood to drip to the floor. "Just watch dad. Just watch me and feel that respect growing in your heart."

Gretchen Raven picked up the pistol, and continued on ready for anything.

**XXX**

"_Candice, please realize that what happened here today happened for a reason. Don't let that same reason cause you to make bad decisions." _

"I'm sorry dad..." Candice muttered as she held Brittany close to her chest. "I'm going to have to go back on your words. Ricardo was a member of the Capitol. Just like the Capitol caused you're death, they caused Brittany's as well. I've had enough."

Candice stood up, laying Brittany carefully on the ground. "I've had enough of hiding away and not killing. I will not be a coward." Candice bent down and picker up the make-shift spear that Brittany had made beforehand back in the building. "Mother. I will prove Kris' innocence. It won't bring him back, but justice will be given."

Candice glanced at Brittany one last time. "Thank you." Candice Laboy nodded downwards, before turning away and walking towards the town.

**XXX**

Gretchen Raven from the Capitol. Respect was the name of the game. For the respect of her father and her father alone, Gretchen is determined to succeed.

Jeremy Magruder from District 9. For the simple reason of bloodlust he wishes to win.

Andrea Lawson from the Capitol. To win is for the person she loved at first sight. For Craig with Eliza, Andrea believes herself to be the winner.

Candice Laboy from District 4. The journey took her from cold and silent to developing and friendship and earning trust. With the death of her new friend, Candice is more determined than ever to win both for Brittany and to clear her father's name.

Four different individuals from four different states of mind. In the next hour, three of those minds would be extinguished. One person would go on to win the 101st Hunger Games. Who will fall and who will win?


	37. Hour 34  4 Tributes Remaining

**(Thanks to Percival-Jones for the review! Right, this is it. The finale. I've spent time going over it, and I really hope it lives up to expectations. I actually wrote a different ending before I decided that that person wouldn't make sense to win. I think this story is kind of in the middle of my stories. I've mad bad decisions, good decisions, and 'WTF' decisions it has to be said. In a way, it's a test platform for my Battle Royale only fanfic coming sometime in the future. Well, thank you for the reviews, It's been fun writing, and let's see if Damien, Andrea, Candice or Gretchen win the 101****st**** Hunger Games! **

Gretchen was feeling apprehensive. Not of killing anyone, that was easy. No, she was apprehensive about the fact that it was coming to an end. Just a feeling, and feeling's had never let her down before. Some would say that the Capitol putting their own Tributes into the Games was showing their authority, but Gretchen really didn't care what they thought. She had got the chance to prove herself and that was exactly what she was going to do, opinions be damned.

Her eyes surveyed the town as she walked down the street. The repetitive houses were quickly getting boring. Why they couldn't have chosen a more interesting arena Gretchen had no idea. Having an arena in the mountains would have interested her greatly.

Just as she was coming to a cross-road intersection she stopped, her ears twitching.

"...we'll gut them and rip them apart and pluck out their eyeballs..."

'_Jeremy Magruder...'_ Gretchen thought about the unseen boy whom the voice belonged to. Jeremy was someone Gretchen was very interested in meeting. Out of all the Tributes, he was always the unpredictable one. The dark horse, so to say. If she could beat him, there would be no challenge.

"...did you hear that Eliza? I heard him. The crazy one."

Gretchen let another smile grow across her face. That was Andrea's voice. No doubt about it, this was proving to be a very interesting encounter.

Then both Damien and Andrea appeared. Andrea came from around the corner, while Damien walked out a fence in a wall. Immediately Damian glanced towards Andrea, a broad grin widening over his face.

Gretchen's fist clenched harder on the sword's handle as the three exchanged a tense minute. Andrea kept glancing between both Gretchen and Damien while the only boy seemed to be keeping an eye on each of them, looking somewhat cross-eyed.

Then a gust of wind blew across the street.

As if signifying the start, Damien leapt forward at Andrea. Andrea had quick reflexes and managed to step backwards, allowing Damien to land at a crouch and twist his head towards Andrea.

"I like that dress..." Damien grinned, running forward at Andrea. Andrea looked on with wide eyes and stumbled to the side, her dress hindering her movement. Damien managed to grab the hem of her dress and with a ripping sound managed to pull a large piece of the fabric off the dress.

Andrea kicked out, connecting with Damien's face and reached into her cleavage and pulled out the penknife. Flicking it open she stabbed it towards Damien.

Damien ducked under and sprinted forward. Instead of attacking Andrea he went straight past and grabbed Eliza on his way. He was a good few metres away before Andrea realized her bear was missing.

"Eliza!" Andrea exclaimed, her eyes narrowing. "Give her back! Right now!"

Damien grinned and looked at the bear. "So, you're called Eliza, are you?" He raised the bear's head to his ear as if it were talking to him. "Ah, I see. Annoying voice? I'll agree with you on that one. Urgh, that dress? Of course, I think adding that rip added a bit of much needed style, hm."

"Give her back!" Andrea took a step forward but Damian shook his head, putting Eliza out in front of him.

"Nu-uh pretty girl. Eliza doesn't want you to come near. She's taken a liking to me, I think." Damien eyes were darting back and forth between Eliza and Andrea. "Oh, I see... oh, you naughty thing. We can't do that here." Damien suddenly moved backwards as disgust showed on his face. "You what? She does that? My god... makes you want to die, doesn't it. Oh... you do?" A menacing grin grew further on Damien's face as he glanced to Andrea who was looking fit to burst. "She... she says you mistreat her. Eliza says she wants to die. We can help with that, can't we."

"What are you-"

"Ssh, ssh, be quiet pretty girl." Damien placed his other hand atop Eliza's head and started twisting slowly, keeping the body in place with the other hand.

"No! Don't you dare!" Andrea practically screamed.

"So noisy. Tell me, pretty girl..." Damien suddenly pulled both hands apart, and in turn ripped the head from the bear's body causing fluff to fly high in the air. "What are you going to do about it?"

Andrea stared, dumbstruck as she stared at her sister's bear. "E-Eliza... E-E... ELIZA!" Andrea suddenly screamed, sprinting forward and slicing at Damien's stomach with the penknife. Damien hopped backwards.

"Close, but no..." Damien hopped back again. "...no cigar!"

Andrea let out another furious growl and suddenly ran forward, tackling Damien to the ground. She raised the penknife above her head and brought it down ferociously towards Damien's eye.

It would have entered, had Damien not had the sense to grab Andrea's wrist with his hand and clenched hard.

"What's the matter? Don't have the strength pretty girl? Is that all you are, hm? A simple model for that..." Damien cocked his head. "...Barbie doll physique? You Capitol disgust me as much as mustard. Let me tell you. I HATE mustard." Damien suddenly thrust his head forward, slamming skull on skull.

Andrea let out a small gasp and pulled backwards as she clutched her head. Damien rolled to the side and got back up to his feet, grabbing Andrea's shoulders and pushing her against the wall. He leant forward and licked Andrea up the cheek. "You taste like mustard too. How disgusting."

Andrea suddenly dived to the side out of Damien's grasp. Damien would have grabbed her had it not been for the stinging pain in his stomach. Looking down, he saw a blade sticking straight through his side, just below the lung.

"Oh my..." A small amount of blood dripped from Damien's mouth as he fell to his knees. "...that hurts..." Damien collapsed to the side.

Gretchen stared at him with disgust, before snapping her gaze towards Andrea.

"Capitol vs. Capitol, hm?" Gretchen said as she approached. "You're a goddamn whore. Look at you, flouncing you're body like that. I was going to let Jeremy kill you, but you disgust me to the point of annoyance."

Andrea didn't say anything, just bit her lip and backed straight into a wall. Gretchen got close enough to let her breath roll over Andrea's porcelain face. Bringing her pistol up, Gretchen placed it straight in the middle of Andrea's forehead.

"Be glad you can be a part in earning my father's respect."

Andrea glanced to the side and caught sight of Eliza's ripped head.

'_Eliza...'_

**XXX**

_"Eliza! Eliza!" Andrea shook hard as she was being treated by the doctor's. They could question her, talk to her, but there was no wrenching Eliza's bear from her grasp. _

_ "Andrea, please, you have to calm down." The doctor said. _

_ Andrea didn't respond, merely clutched the bear hard to her chest. "Eliza... why..." Andrea suddenly looked up, her eyes lit up. "W-Who was d-driving? Who killed my Eliza?" _

_ The nurse glanced to the doctor, who nodded. _

_ "Dear... it was... it was you're..." The nurse gulped. "It was your father." _

_ Andrea's eyes widened as large as saucers. "But he l-loved her... loved me..." _

_** XXX**_

Andrea suddenly thought about Craig as she stared at Eliza's bear. How she watched him, and admired him. How he ultimately betrayed her. No matter what, it was always just Eliza and Andrea. Anyone else would always betray them.

"Eliza..." Andrea managed to mutter, bringing her hand up as if to reach for the bear.

Then the loud pop signifying the bullet exiting the chamber and flying through the air was sounded. At such a close range, there was no chance. Blood sprayed against the wall behind Andrea.

'_Eliza...'_ Blackness invaded Andrea's vision as she slumped downwards, continuously reaching out for Eliza. Instead of the bear, the blue eyes of her sister stared at her, and then she smiled. Andrea fell to the ground, her head falling downwards.

Gretchen let the pistol hang from her grip as she regarded Andrea with disgust. "You fool. Oh well. Two down, I must be closing in."

"I think you're bad at math!"

Gretchen swung around in surprise and raised her arm just in time for a sword to slice through her flesh like butter. Gretchen gasped as the pistol flew from her grasp and blood welled up in the wound.

Damien grinned wide. "Just stabbing me like that ain't going to do you much good, missy." He brought the sword upwards and stared at the blood. "It looks sweet. Perhaps this is a sign of unification. My blood mixed with yours." Damien licked the blade, curling the blood into his mouth with his tongue. He swallowed and licked his lips. "Now you're in me..." Damien suddenly laughed, before stumbling backwards, clutching his face with a hand.

The red haze had invaded his vision once again. Damien quickly shook his head and forced the red away, leaving the normal colours.

"I think I'll keep this sword." Damien said, before swinging at Gretchen. "I want more of your blood!"

Gretchen stepped backwards, her injuries giving her an annoying throb throughout her head. Both her arm and leg were pulsing.

"You're nothing!" Gretchen growled, ducking under the next sword swipe and tackled Damien to the ground. On the ground once more, Damien rolled over so he was over Gretchen. The sword was left on the ground.

"I have to say, you're much more prettier than the other girl." Damien leant forward and suddenly planted his lips over Gretchen's own.

Gretchen's eyes widened in such detest she could give all the District's a run for their money. She tried to protest, but Damien's tongue wormed in like a disgusting parasite. Thinking fast Gretchen clamped her mouth shut feeling the tough muscle give way. Damien drew back with a howl of pain, blood spilling from his mouth.

Gretchen spat the end of his tongue out of his mouth and got up to her feet, rubbing her mouth. "You repulsive..."

Instead of anger, Damien looked to Gretchen with a grin. Since not much tongue was missing, he was still able to speak relatively well. "I like feisty woman!" Damien leaped forward but Gretchen punched forward hard, feeling fist connect with flesh. Damien gasped and allowed more blood to spill from his mouth. Gretchen followed up hard with a kick straight between the middle of the legs.

Damien's eyes bulged hard as he fell to the side.

"A crazy man is still a man." Gretchen said, bending down and picking up her sword as Damien struggled to his feet. "You are a repulsive creature. Your death is a blessing."

"Fuck right off girly." Damien said as he got straight to his feet only for his eyes to widen for the last time.

Gretchen had dropped the gun and clasped the handle of the sword with both hands. Thrusting it forward with all the power she could muster, she drove it straight through Damien's left eye. The sword encountered resistance from the skull, but broke through with relative ease. Gretchen continued until the hilt bounced off the skull.

Breathing hard, Gretchen let go of the sword and waited for Damien to drop.

Instead, driving deep bouts of fear into even Gretchen's heart, Damien grinned. No falling down, no death throes. With a sword driven all the way through his skull, Damien _grinned_.

"I-I thi-think you jus-just killed J-Jeremy..." Damien took a step forward, the sword wobbling grotesquely out the back of his head. "Ye-ah. Th-that was Jer-Jeremy."

In desperation, Gretchen reached forward, grabbed the handle and pulled the sword out. Blood spurted out in a torrent as Damien stumbled back. Still, he did not fall.

"Wh-wh-whats the-the-the problem!" Damien demanded, blood dripped from his mouth and grotesque eye socket. Blood ran down the back of his head as well, coating the back of his neck from the exit wound.

"What the hell..." Gretchen breathed. "How is that possible..."

"Wh-who knows!" Damien lunged forward once again.

Gretchen stabbed forward and impaled Damien straight through the stomach. Pulling the sword out she walked backwards, shaking her head in disbelief as Damien stumbled forward as if drunk.

"G-Gonna have... to do... more than that... pre-pretty girl..." Damien slurred.

Gretchen let out a curse and grasped the handle with two hands once more. For the second time, she thrust it forward into Damien's skull, this time entering Damien's right eye.

He immediantly let out a howl of pain, pulling himself off the blade and falling to the ground. He thrived and wriggled like a fish out of water, spouting inconsistenct gibberish.

"I'll kill- mommy's de- I don't want- dead – living – she's go – dad is – teasing me – I – no –" The unrelated thread of words continued as unbelievably, Damien got up to all fours. Slowly, like a snake, he looked upwards. Blood covered the whole of his face, but that didn't stop the grin plastered across his face.

"That-that was – mommy's dead – that was... mustard... was Alex-ander..." Damien slurred, interrupting himself. "What about – house – me? What about dear – mommy – old – daddy – Damien..."

"...The hell..." Gretchen shook her head, completely freaked out. "This is too much. What is wrong with you?"

"Wr-wrong? Nothing – garden – nothing is wrong with – Alexander – Jeremy – Me." Damien's grin widened, revealing bloody teeth.

Gretchen took a deep breath and grasped the sword tightly, raising it above her head. "Just die!"

Like an executioner, Gretchen swung the sword downwards. Instead of cutting off a head, the sword entered the back of Damien's head vertically. An ugly slice developed from the back of his neck all the way to his brow. Gretchen drew back and breathed hard. Damien wasn't moving.

"Is that it?" Gretchen dropped the sword and hugged herself. Despite her hard facade, she was still freaked beyond belief. Never before had she encountered something like that.

"No!" Damien suddenly rolled to his back and stared up at Gretchen's wide eyes. His grin was still plastered on his face. "No! No! No! NO!"

Damien continued the demented chanting, not moving. Gretchen shook her head and backed away.

"NO! NO! NO!"

Gretchen shivered as Damien continued the deadly chant. Then he suddenly went silent. Gretchen waited, but no movement. Taking a tentative step forward... still no movement. She moved close enough to stare into his eyes, and saw they were dim. Finally, Jeremy Magruder was dead.

A sudden sense caught Gretchen off guard. Whether because of the recent fight, or the rumoured sixth sense, she dived to the side as a penknife stabbed at her head. Expertly rolling, Gretchen avoided Candice's surprise attack and grabbed the pistol on her way.

Candice turned around in disbelief at her missed attack and watched in slow motion as Gretchen pulled the trigger. The bullet exited the chamber and soured towards her. Candice couldn't move as the bullet slammed against her heart.

Gretchen watched as Candice slumped towards the ground with a smirk, standing up and wincing because of her injuries. That was a straight-on shot to the heart. Nothing would survive that. Gretchen dropped the gun and started walking away, clutching her wounds. The pain was getting to the point where she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else, let alone a gun. As she walked, Gretchen wondered who could possibly be left. Having just killed Candice, Damien and Andrea, there couldn't be many mo-

"Didn't Damien teach you to make sure someone's dead before walking away. AND You dropped your pistol? What a stupid choice."

Gretchen slowly turned around the face down the barrel of her own pistol. Mouth slightly open, Gretchen looked on in disbelief. "How... is that possible?"

Candice tapped her chest. "I'm going to have a hell of a bruise, but I got myself a bullet proof vest. Guess you Capitol are good for something.

"Congratulations. But it's run out of ammo. Why else would I have dropped it?"

"If it's run out of ammo, why haven't you attacked me, hm?" Candice asked. "I'll take the chance frankly. I'm willing to bet that there is a bullet in here, and you are going to get shot."

"Oh? Can you do it? I watched you." Gretchen said. "I watched you not participate in that fight in the house. You can't kill. I know it. You know it."

Candice stiffened.

"You are nothing but a coward. A stupid coward. Go on, kill me Candice Laboy. Kill me! Do it!"

Candice didn't. Her finger didn't even twitch.

Gretchen smiled menacingly. "But you can't. What's the matter? Times wasting."

'_Brittany...'_Candice thought, remembering that smile. Remembering her new friend. Remembering her dead. '_Dad...'_Again the smile, the friend, the death went through her mind, but with her father instead of Brittany. "I don't know..." Candice finally said.

"You don't know? Ha! What an idiot you are."

"I don't know whether it's revenge." Candice finally continued.

"Eh?"

"Is it justice? Or revenge? No matter. Either way, I will send my mother to jail and get her the punishment she so deserves. For Brittany... for my dad..." Candice connected eyes with Gretchen. "I will not stop. I'm sorry."

"I see." Gretchen said, and closed her eyes.

"If you want to say something, say it now. You must have someone." Candice said surprisingly.

Gretchen opened an eye and saw in Candice's eyes, she realised she was saying the truth. Looking around, Gretchen eyed a camera. "President Raven. Father... dad. I hope that this experience has made you realise just how precious a child is. I wanted your respect, and that caused me to walk to my death. If you have another child, make sure you don't make the same mistake as you did with me. Love them dad. Love them with all the love you should have loved me. Don't make them go to their death like me."

Gretchen stopped and closed her eyes, but then opened them. "One last thing. I never thought I would say this dad. Yet... I guess... I managed to grow into the woman I am because of you. I don't respect you, but I guess... I guess I love you."

Finally Gretchen closed her eyes and went silent.

Silence reigned across the town as Candice pointed the pistol at Gretchen's skull. Candice found a smile on her face, and a tear running down her cheek.

"I'm sorry..." Candice repeated once more, before pressing the trigger.

The loud pop signified the end.

**XXX**

"Here you are folks! The 101st Hunger Games is over! Let it be known, and celebrate, that the winner, hailing from District 4, is Candice Laboy!"

As the voice ran out over the arena, Candice dropped the pistol and hugged herself. It was over. 34 long hours, and finally it had ended.

"The love for a father... eh..." Candice muttered, glancing at Gretchen. "I know how you feel. Dad... finally I'll clear you're name. Not for revenge, but for justice."

Candice stayed sitting as she waited to be picked up. It was hard, long, and exhausting. Yet she had made it.


End file.
